? And You ?
Alex had been walking for hours, lost in alleys that twisted like his thoughts. The city sank into sunset; walls and rooftops glowed with a last, fading gold before slipping into shadow. Only when he reached the narrow stairwell cut into the slums did his legs give out. He sat, head in his hands, and the fact came back to him with a small, sharp ache—it was Sunday. He’d missed Dr. Kranz’s clinic. He hadn’t seen Mira; she should have been released by now. He told himself the Wolves had her, told himself he was too tired, but the truth burned: he hadn’t gone.
Dominick’s words kept echoing at the edges of his mind. If Alex ever crossed him, Dante would pay the price. Not him.
What if it was a bluff? What if choosing meant choosing a life over another? He had saved the twins—he had to believe that meant something—but he could not imagine losing Dante. And what of Emily, muffled and shoved into a crate—what guarantee was there that Dominick would move out of pity? If he acted for compassion, would Dominick save him for the sake of goodness, or for some darker business reason Alex could not fathom?
The questions came like tides, pulling him under.
A voice cut through the quiet.
“Look who’s here.”
Alex’s heart jumped. He turned, and his face lit.
“Mira!”
She stood above him on the steps, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, flat cap tilted over her red hair. Boots, pants, the same wiry sharpness she carried the day they fought. Alex’s mind flashed—her pale face in the plaza, blood running, Dr. Kranz’s words: "You kept her alive". For a moment, all his burdens dissolved.
“You’re out!” he smiled brightly.
“Cleared today,” she said, smirking. “Kranz says I still need checks. He was more worried about you not coming, though.”
Alex’s smile faltered. “I’m… sorry. I meant to visit. I just got caught up in things.” His tone carried more weight than excuse, almost pleading to be understood.
“Hmph.” She turned away, pink on her cheeks. “Not like I care whether you came or not.”
Alex didn’t argue. The silence made her glance back—and she noticed the weight in his posture. Those things he mentioned weren’t small.
“Is it true you go to Kranz’s on Sundays? To… learn?”
Alex nodded. “I wanted to do something useful. Something that reminds me of my father. I’m far from him.”
She studied him. “That’s how you knew how to patch me up?”
“More or less,” he laughed softly.
Mira sank onto the step beside him, close enough to feel present, but leaving a thin strip of stone between them. “I respect that,” she said at last.
His answer was small, almost shy. “Thank you.”
She bumped his arm with her fist, light and playful. “Come on! You’re too quiet and dramatic today. Say something.”
He chuckled, the sound short, weary but genuine. “Alright… Ummm... How are you? And the gang?”
“We’re heroes in the slums now.” Her grin was sharp, proud—but the longer he held her gaze, the more it faltered. “As for me… not so great.” Her voice thinned, quieting. “That day wasn’t easy. I got betrayed by maybe my closest friend.”
Alex’s chest tightened. He listened, and she kept going.
“A knife in your gut…” She let out a shaky laugh, almost scoffing at herself. “You don’t forget how that feels. One of the worst moments of my life.”
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“Mira…” His voice carried more than her name—sympathy, anger, helplessness.
“But—” her tone steadied, and her eyes lifted again, stubborn as ever, “if I’d stayed still, things would have been worse. I had to stand up. For him. And I’d do it again.”
Alex’s brows knit, a shadow passing over his face. “You’re not afraid?”
“Of course I’m afraid.” She leaned slightly, tilting her head toward him, grin fighting its way back. “But that's just who I am. A fighter... and hey, if something happens, we got ourselves a little doctor here!”
Alex’s jaw tightened. He turned away, the grin on her lips not reaching him. “Doctor Kranz did the hard part. You should be grateful to him, not me. Furthermore, I didn't do it alone. The gang and Noor helped a lot too.”
Silence. The kind that hung heavy, but not cold. Mira studied him, and slowly her grin melted into something softer. A smile, quiet and real.
The sunset spread across the sky in deep reds and burning orange, clouds smudged purple at the edges, as if the city itself were set aflame. Neither spoke for a long while, letting the fading light and the weight of each other’s presence ease the burdens they carried.
Alex finally broke the quiet, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Mira… Leo said you’re an orphan. And that day you got me my lucky charm back, you told me ‘not all of us have parents.’”
Mira pulled her knees close, circling her arms around them. Her voice was steady but low. “I envy you for that charm.” She lowered her head so her hair shadowed her face. “At least your parents gave you something. Mine left me in front of the orphanage when I was a baby. A note with my name on it, that’s it.”
“They… never came back?”
She shook her head without looking up.
Alex stared at the cracks between the stones under his feet. “What is wrong with this place?”
Mira turned her head slightly, listening.
“It’s… so different from home,” he murmured.
“What’s home like?” she asked.
“I used to live in a village in the mountains. Peaceful. When the snow came, neighbors shared what they had, and in spring everyone helped in the fields. The air was clean, the farms green, and you could see the peaks glowing when the sun set. People looked after each other in hard times. Here… it’s not the same.”
Mira tried to picture it, but all she had ever known were crooked alleys and loud streets.
The boy sighed. “Everyone is plotting something. The streets are always crowded, yet everyone rushes past like they’re alone. No one trusts anyone. People care only for themselves. Parents even throw away their children. It’s all noise, greed, and shadows—and only a few ever bother to care.”
"I wonder... if I will ever get to call it 'home' ever."
“Well… I think home isn’t necessarily a place.” Mira rested her cheek against her knees, voice quieter. “At the orphanage, boys thought I was too boyish to be left alone. Girls thought I wasn’t girly enough to befriend. I never truly felt like belonging anywhere for a long time..."
"One day, some bullies roughed me up..." Her lips curved despite herself, a brief, unguarded smile. "—then Leo and Zack stepped in." Remembering it, she almost looked lighter, as if that day—bloody nose and all—was still one of the best she ever had. "No big speeches. Just fists. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.”
Her gaze softened, lost in the memory. “Only then did I feel like I belonged somewhere.”
“Is that how the gang got formed?” Alex asked.
Mira chuckled lightly. “People think gangs begin with declarations. Uniforms. Ranks. Like we’re acting out some play. ‘You’re first division, you’re second division.’ That kind of lame thing.” She shrugged. “That’s not how it happened. We were just surviving. Watching each other’s backs. Just us three. Later, Tonno, Pinch, and Lino joined. Pinch was the one who came up with the idea of making it a gang, and Lino came up with the name 'Wolves'.”
Her expression softened, dimming. “Then Leo’s father passed away from illness. He had to step up, be the man in the house for his little sister, Dina… until she was gone too after he finally got her into school.”
Alex’s brows knit, his gaze lowering.
"Every corner, street, even his own flat reminded him of her." She continued, "He loved her a lot that it crushed him... And so he moved when he got a chance to live with his grandfather who didn't stay long either.”
"And me? I started chasing ghosts. Picking fights. Looking for anyone strong enough to remind me of him. Never found one. Not even close. Zack… Zack got even more lost than me.”
She hugged her legs tighter. “I thought those days will be back in the Plaza when I saw Leo again… I wished to see all of us together, like the old days... but Zack made his choice.”
Finally, she turned her face fully toward Alex, her eyes clear in the sunset’s glow.
“I have a family here, Alex. That’s home."
"Leo, Lino, Pinch, Tonno…”
Alex met her gaze. For a moment, he forgot the slums, the city, even the blood still drying in his memory. She had been stabbed, betrayed, and yet she sat here speaking of family with strength that made something ache in his chest. He admired her—respected her more deeply than words could hold.
Then—
“And you.”
The words tumbled out of her mouth before she realized she had spoken them.
Alex blinked, lips parting, eyes flickering in startled silence.
Only then did Mira’s mind catch up with her own voice. Color flooded her cheeks; she twisted away, shoulders stiff, ears burning in the last streaks of daylight.
“D-Don’t get the wrong idea, alright?! You’re just a soft-looking, clinic-bailing, punch-pulling moron!”
Alex’s lips curved into a small, shy smile, eyes meeting hers for a fleeting heartbeat before dropping to the ground. Mira stayed still, chest rising and falling with the same quiet rhythm as his, letting the silence stretch.
"Thank you, Mira," he finally managed, still looking at the ground, too shy to meet her eyes.
Relief softened her shoulders. He was feeling better—he had heard her. Grinning, she extended a fist. "Then, we’re even."
Alex bumped it, awkward but sure. After that, neither moved. The last rays of sunlight painted them both in a soft, fragile glow—a fleeting moment, yet one neither would forget.
As always, thank you for reading :)
Next chapter: —a training arc is coming.
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