Nel's Spicy Noodles

Two weeks later, Xiao walks down the bustling streets of a city called Roccia. Their temporary base sat to the far east of the Zalisthia Empire and had an extremely mild climate compared to Bailekhwam. Despite that, each building was stucco-clad, decorated in blindingly red paint. Xiao looked up as she walked, observing the tall painted buildings; unguarded in her stature.

Xiao had thought that only Bailekhwam would be coated in adobe material, a preparation to last the relentless and humid summers of the south. In appearance, Bailekhwam looked quite similar to Roccia; but the culture of the north was very different. People had a life to them here. As Xiao walked she would hear people of many origins, occasionally, she would pick up on various conversations in mandarin; mainly useless everyday conversations and nothing scandalous.

Stranger to her than the atmosphere was the new reactions Xiao would see people attempt to hide. No longer was she invisible, instead, people would stare openly; A strange pride in their eyes. Their stares conflicted Xiao. She wanted to no longer be viewed as a victim and their pride was a reassurance that the risks she had made in her life weren't in vain. yet, she found herself disgusted by the uniform that so quickly changed people's perceptions of her. She felt like an imposter. Occasionally, as she'd walk, or stop to haggle for food for her squad, she'd catch a look of pity in the corner of her eye. Surely, a mother thinking "dear god, he's so young," or a man thinking, "I'm glad that's not my son." Xiao thought that this look of pity would never disappear in her lifetime.

Reaching the opening to their second-floor apartment, she opens the door and steps up their creaky and dilapidated staircase. Opening the door, an unpleasant rush of Nel's lunch of spicy noodles wafts in her nostrils. Xiao covers her face, blocking the scent and cringing, "god, I need to get out of here," she thinks. The wooden floor clacks loudly with each step of her heavy boots. She sits at the table across from Yuto who's holding documents to his face, unhealthily close in a way that must be damaging his eyes.

She shuffles the empty bowls to the side of the table, revealing wanted posters hidden underneath. At the sound of the bowls, Yuto shows his face from behind the documents, "anything?" he asks. Xiao shakes her head. "I'm so frustrated, why did he leave me in charge, I do not envy his job," he complains in a winded voice.

"Christopher, come here! Now!" Xiao hears the zipping sound of Christophers sleeping bag and suddenly a bed-headed Christopher is sauntering to the table, his usually manicured hair in shambles. "Yes, what is it?" He says in a raspy voice.

"What'd you get from last night?"

"There's talk underground that the leader will make a hit on the vault tonight during the banquet. I wrote it on the note, didn't you see?" Yuto shuffles a bowl of half-eaten spaghetti and finds a note with the words, "Banquet hit tonight. Don't wake me up."

Yuto looks at him, unimpressed. "You can surveil enemies from one hundred meters away, yet you write a report with seven words and most of them are you bitching about your sleeping schedule?"

"You Zalisthians and your protocol, it doesn't matter, I got my point across!"

"Ok boys, settle down, I know we're all stir-crazy but we're trying to capture thieves, not each other. Unless you want to be captured, Christopher," Chance winks flirtily at Christopher.

Christopher sends a thoroughly disgusted sneer at Chance. "What is that even supposed to mean?"