Ah, the black market trade.

Yumeí: Seriously? That's how you got revenge on your parents?

Lync: I have no idea if they even knew I was involved. Just that I was a dropout.

Volt: You dropped out of middle school?

Lync: Yep.

Mylene: Your revenge doesn't seem very effective. They didn't even know.

Lync: It was a personal revenge. Ugh! You know what? I give up.

Dream: Kinda hard not to.

Lync stood casually against the wall, waiting for someone to come close enough. It happened thirty seconds later: he swiped a music played from a teenager's halfway open backpack. He pocketed it before snatching a cheap bracelet right off the wrist of a passing woman.

His new game was quite fun; Lync enjoyed being clever and quick enough to fetch a profit from the inter-city black market. He was a carrier/trader, as his kind were called: smart enough to steal without getting caught, free enough to not be missed after dark, and willing to bring new goods into the rotation of the stock.

Lync had found that from 7-8 AM and 5-7 PM were the best times to collect items: lots of people in the same area. Plenty of goods to lift out of the bags of unwary citizens. It wasn't difficult to nab items, particularly when the owners left them tantalizingly within reach.

Soon, the flow of Comers and Goers thinned and Lync began to stand out: a middle school kid not in school, with a very full backpack. Lync put his new catches into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and went for a quick walk into one of the neighborhoods nearby. He found the correct address and knocked on the door.

A middle aged woman with teal hair answered the door; she studied Lync with narrowed eyes.

"What do you want?"

"I want to try and alleviate a problem you have," Lync said, reminding himself forcibly of a salesman. "I have heard that there has been some trouble in your home."

"You mean the trouble that started eleven months ago, about the time you were kicked out of school?" she said, eyebrows raised. Lync ignored this.

"Your home has been robbed multiple times in the past six months. For the correct amount of money, I can make that stop."

"So you're offering me protection," she said, crossing her arms. "From you."

"From an unnamed hooligan," Lync corrected her.

"Named Lync."

"Who hurt you so bad you can't trust?" Lync asked, trying to sound wounded. The woman sighed.

"Alright, I'll think about it."

"You better hurry up with your choice," Lync said slyly. "You have places to be."

Lync left the house, laughing quietly to himself. He'd been stealing from her house for several months, and she'd almost caught him a few weeks back, but didn't have any evidence to get him thrown in jail. She was helpless against his antics.

I love my job, he thought.

*That night*

Lync stood in the shadows, waiting to see if anyone showed up. He was waiting in an slum alley, not too far from his home. If someone wanted quality item and had something to trade for it, he was here for two hours every other night.

It didn't take long for the alley to become a hub of hushed conversation as more traders and carriers arrived, along with prospective customers.

Lync traded off a few cheap bracelets in exchange for carefully carved charms strung on strings, and the music player went to a large, scarred boy with burnt orange hair, who traded it for two pocketknives. Through his two hours, he gave up his rare items to Slum kids who had anything worth trading. When it was finally time to leave, Lync packed up his gear and left.

Once he got home, he'd have a good four to five hours to sleep before he had to wake up at 6 AM to do another black market trading, but this time on the opposite side of town: the rich side. Rich kids could actually give cash for the goods their parents didn't want them to have.

Lync walked quietly into his house well after midnight, walked up the stairs, and dropped off his schoolbag in his room. Then he quietly walked down the hall, to Elrin's room. When he walked in, she didn't stir.

Lync sat on the edge of her be and listened to her breathing. He listened for what seemed like forever. Then he stood up, ran his hand over her hair, smoothing it neatly, before returning to his own room and falling asleep.

Yumeí: That last part is sweet.

Lync: She's a good little sister.

Shadow: Does anyone mind if I gag?

Dream+Yumeí+Lync: YES.

Dream: We do mind.

Mylene: Review and tell us what you think.