Author's Note
First of all, thanks for checking the story out, I hope you like it! This fic closely follows canon events up to S4 of the anime, but I will introduce a spoiler warning when that part is reached in case you haven't caught up with it. It's my first fic so constructive criticism, suggestions and all that jazz are more than welcomed.
Anyways, enjoy!
Tags: Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers, Lovers to Enemies, Childhood friends.
Cover: From the Birmingham Museums Trust [1882. John Everett Millais (d.1896) and Joseph Swain (d.1909)}
"Kept in the Dark - When the Letter was completed she found it to be one which she could not send"
He wasn't looking for trouble that day.
The scenery was the same as always; dust rising and settling with every footstep he took, the dim lanterns hanging from the houses being the only source of light in the Underground. The cold air gently stroked the young man's face as he moved forward.
He wasn't heading anywhere in particular. It was just a stroll around the city. There was nothing pleasant about observing poverty and decadence, yet he found it somewhat comforting to walk around with no destination. But the Underground was still a cage, and every route ended at the cold walls of the cave that hosted it.
He was vigilant during his walks; violence was always present, and he could not allow himself to be careless. That's the kind of thing that would get anyone killed in the Underground. Despite his young age and small frame, he had a reputation, and not a good one, which offered him some degree of protection against mindless robbers and other minor thugs. However, he didn't involve himself in unnecessary fights. As he walked, he could hear shouting and rioting behind him, but he wasn't keen on playing the hero.
Some of the aggressive sounds grew closer to him, and he could feel rumbling footsteps accompanying them. From the corner of his eye, he distinguished three silhouettes chasing a smaller one. He ignored the persecution and, to avoid getting in their way, he walked towards the side of the path to continue his stroll, unbothered.
But it seemed like the situation wasn't going to ignore him. He felt a small figure rapidly passing next to him, dropping the strap of a heavily loaded cloth bag over his head, which ended up wrapped around his torso. After abandoning the cargo on him, the figure ran into a house nearby. As he took off the bag and attempted to chase after the scoundrel, he realized the previous three chasers were now coming after him. And they were getting dangerously close.
Running away was not an option for him.
He struck the first thug to arrive with a kick in the stomach, making him drop to the floor from the impact. While the other two men caught up with their fallen comrade, he unhooked the knife from his belt and removed the cover from the edge, ready to battle. The thugs did not seem to be good fighters, but their intimidating size was an advantage that the boy did not possess.
While the first man was still on the ground, the other two positioned themselves to the left and right, fiercely looking into the boy's grey eyes. He was not scared, but he also wasn't keen on delivering the first strike. As one of the thugs got ready to punch him, the small figure that had previously run into the house jumped from the ceiling of a building, landing on the attacker's head and knocking him unconscious. The boy used the confusion to attack the remaining thug, hitting him on the throat with his elbow.
As three men were unfit to keep fighting, he turned around, ready to face the scoundrel behind the mess. He distinguished them to be a girl, slightly younger than him, still recovering from the landing. Before he could even articulate a word, she stood up and sprinted towards his right flank.
The first thug had managed to get up. He was still half ached and in no position to win a fair fight, but he still seemed ready to attempt it. The girl quickly undid the bun fastening her hair by removing a metal needle, and wrapped her fist around the artifact. She got closer to the attacker and sank her weaponized hand into his torso. After a moment of staggering, the man dropped to the floor. The young boy watched the scene unravel; it was not his fight, and the swirled dust from the encounter had already smudged his clothes enough.
With a heavy breath from the adrenaline of the battle, the girl cleaned the metal needle with her shirt and put her light brown hair back into a bun. She turned towards him, which allowed him to get a clearer view of her features. She had a round face and the characteristic pale, sick skin of someone who had grown up in the Underground, which remarked the dark circles under her brown eyes.
She approached him with a soft smile, while also slightly bending over to grab the cloth bag on the floor.
"Sorry for the troub—" Before she could finish the sentence, the young boy delivered a powerful slap across her face, making her drop to the floor.
The sunlight entered the room through a glass window, divided into small crystal sections forming a delicate, geometrical patterning. The light split in all directions and enveloped the place in its entirety. It was a spacious area, colored in soft blue tones, with not a speck of dust to be present.
It was not an impressively decorated space, considering the other ostentatious manors that populated the Ehrmich District inside Wall Sheena. There were no portraits, expensive ceramics, or chandeliers. Instead, the mobiliary consisted of a fireplace, surrounded by velvet chairs, and a long oak dining table. A tilted desk faced the wall, covered in large papers that depicted carefully designed blueprints of military gear. Next to the workstation, graphite and drawing supplies were spread out on top of a cupboard.
A woman in a green dress sat on a chaise lounge, facing the door connecting the room with the rest of the house. The woman gently stroked a strand of hair that had fallen out from her low bun, tightened by a metal needle. She bent over to reach the coffee table in front of her and grabbed a small ceramic cup filled with black tea. She had barely touched its side with her lips when someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened, and a middle-aged lieutenant from the Military Police entered the room. He was wearing the classic uniform, including the brown jacket with the embroidered unicorn.
"Chief Lhant, the Military Police wants you to revise the designs of the new antipersonnel gear." The voice sounded confident in the statement. His eyes wandered through the room, observing its apparent luxury before handing the papers to its inhabitant. The woman left the cup back on the table and grabbed the papers, which prompted the lieutenant to leave the room.
Working on top-secret military missions meant no days off for her.
"Okay, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she screamed, covering her face and shriveling up to avoid another hit from the young boy. He ignored the three seemingly unconscious bodies around them and inspected the cloth bag lying on the floor. He didn't even bother to kneel next to it. Instead, he lightly kicked it to reveal some of its content, which seemed to be strangely shaped metal pieces.
"All of this for some junk?" he muttered. "Is this what you eat? Trash?"
As it seemed like the boy would not strike again, she slowly moved her hands away from her face to get a clearer view of him. He was pale, with dark hair and a blank expression on his face, not even showing anger or disgust towards her for putting him in such a dangerous situation.
She had seen him before.
"The only reason why you are not getting beat up more is because I'm sure the friends of those guys you pissed off will take care of that." He turned around, resuming his walk.
"You are… Kenny's kid." As the name escaped her lips, he stopped on his feet and slightly turned his head. Without thinking it twice, she incorporated herself and charged towards him with a closed fist, aiming to strike at his face. She was just as tall as he was, but he was still able to stop the incoming punch with one hand. After all, she was tired from all the running and fighting. He effortlessly pushed her back with a swift move, and she fell again. She was ashamed that he could beat her so easily. The shame turned into anger, which made her want to fight the boy even more.
Suddenly, the thug she had previously jumped on to knock unconscious growled. As much as she would've hoped to give the boy his retribution, her priorities were elsewhere. She quickly went towards the bag and put back as many pieces as possible. She fastened it around her shoulder and ran away from the scene.
Once she was at a safe distance, she turned her head, but the boy was gone.
