Darkness cloaked the room as Roman lay in bed, the musty comforter pulled up to his chin. Neo lay next to him in the large king bed. Roman told himself it was so he could protect her if anything barged into the top-floor apartment, but it was more the unsettling feeling that gathered in his stomach when he was alone in the abandoned part of the city, mostly cut off from society and help, that brought the two younguns in the same bed together.
Locking his eyes to the ceiling, Roman waited for Neo's breathing to even and deepen. The girl had been increasingly tired lately, dozing off during the day and lounging around the apartment, unlike her normal energetic self. Being young, she had a surplus of energy, but she seemed to hold more energy than a normal child, practically bouncing off the walls on a normal day. Roman couldn't help but wonder why she was increasingly lethargic lately.
As minutes rolled by, Roman observed the young girl tucked away into the sheets. Her strawberry and chocolate-colored hair splayed around her, the loose curls pulling apart in her movement when she slept. The short tastes of vanilla were indistinguishable in the hovering darkness, and Roman was always slightly disappointed at that. The vanilla was his favorite part; it seemed to him the biggest mystery out of the whole girl. Not only the white within her hair, but Roman could still remember the white he watched fade out of the girl's eyes the first time he met her. It seemed to be his savior, and he relished the thought of seeing the white again. It was the only pure part of their situation.
The girl shifted in her sleep, rolling onto her left side, facing away from Roman, and he nearly jumped. The thought of her catching him admiring her would wreak havoc on him; she wouldn't relent to tease him as much as possible. He didn't feel anything intimate for her as they were only young and barely aware of intimate relationships besides being older than their current ages, but he felt a connection to the strange girl. She had saved his life though, and a connected relationship such as theirs would only be expected from that situation. Little did the two children understand though was the deed had gone both ways, in which both of their lives had been saved in the meeting of the other. She needed him as much as he had needed her, and even still needed her.
Minutes passed into hours, and Roman's brain still resisted sleep. It was as if the girl had started to sleep for both her and Roman, and Roman was awake enough for the both of them.
Roman carefully crawled out of the bed, ensuring the girl was completely covered and tucked in; she threw a fuss if she wasn't fully immersed in the blankets, other than her head. Creeping out of the room in an unneeded way, he left the door open a crack before slipping on his worn-down pair of shoes and heading out of the apartment for some fresh air.
Descending the stairs and slithering out of the building, Roman leant against the cracked bricks of the apartment building they resided in. The crisp air reminded him that he needed to steal some new, warmer clothes for the two of them with the impending cold. The night was slightly chilling, a cold breeze scraping along Roman's bare forearm, goosebumps fighting their way to the surface. He should have grabbed his thin jacket on the way out considering he was wearing only a tank top and sweatpants, but it hadn't crossed his mind as he had been eager for an escape from the claustrophobic building, always cutting him off from the freedom he yearned. He knew the young girl usually felt the same with all her energy, but lately she seemed to prefer the dark seclusion it produced.
The sounds of howling Grimm reverberated through the abandoned section of the city. Roman had grown accommodated to the sound, and it rarely scared him anymore unless they were near. No, he wasn't scared of the Grimm; he was scared of the huntsman…
A howl of a Grimm was cut short, and Roman jerked his head in the direction of the shortened noise. Peculiar, he thought, for he could almost hear the sound of fighting not far from him. And the sound of aggravated Grimm.
Not thinking ahead, Roman sprinted toward the sounds. As he neared, he slowed and crept along, hugging the wall of another crumbling building. Peeking his head around the corner, the tell-tale sound of growling Grimm sounded out. A circle of the creatures was spread on the street, and in the middle stood a dark figure. The figure was facing Roman's way, but his head was angled at the ground, almost as if he accepted his defeat. He wore black pants, easily hugging his small legs, and a black suit jacket buttoned up his chest. A forest green cloak surrounded him, the hood pulled over his head, billowing out behind him, tempting the Grimm creatures behind him to attack. His weapon was held in his hands, and Roman discerned it as a cane almost, mostly black, and the top had a white handhold, a skinny latch attached as well. Why a young huntsman as the man seemed to be would use a cane was beyond Roman's comprehension.
One of the Grimm gave a hearty roar and pounced forward. The huntsman's head snapped upward, and Roman could barely make out the small glasses that adorned his face, nearly gasping. He knew that huntsman. That filthy, cowardly, fake huntsman.
The huntsman shot forward, swiping aside the Grimm with one hit of his cane. He seemed to move inhumanely fast, his arm swinging and jabbing so fast Roman couldn't even keep up by watching. The huntsman knocked down Grimm faster than anyone Roman had ever known was possible.
A Grimm barrelled up behind the huntsman and swiped a paw at his back. The huntsman, however, threw his hand behind him, and a transparent green wall blocked the Grimm's attack. He then twirled and jabbed the Grimm with his cane, sending it flying backward and crashing into an abandoned building. The building crumbled on top of the creature.
Roman continued to watch as the huntsman defeated endless amounts of Grimm. They seemed to continue to flood into the street, sensing the power the huntsman possessed, wanting to strike him down. Roman knew the feeling too. An ugly feeling rose within him, darkness and revenge, rearing its head and fighting for control in Roman's body. He could almost feel a black poison seeping into him and snaking its way to his brain. He wanted revenge. He was a lonely, blood-thirsty child, unable to forget the circumstances of his parents' death. He wanted the huntsman to pay.
Continuing to admire the huntsman's fighting style, Roman sucked in as much information he could about the huntsman. He committed his face to memory, along with the small tufts of gray hair that peeked out from underneath his forest green cloak. The brief lessons he had learned in combat school allowed him to pick out a few things as well. The huntsman's inhumanely fast pace had to be some sort of time morphing power, possibly his semblance. Or his semblance could be the forcefield. Either way, the man was a tough one to fight and a damn good huntsman. But he didn't always do his job.
For some reason, the Grimm backed away from the huntsman, seeming to regroup. Then all at once, Roman smirked, understanding their technique. Grimm were taught as stupid, no real plan to their lives, just killing, but that didn't seem to be the case.
As Roman predicted, all the surrounding Grimm pounced at once on top of the huntsman, who was overwhelmed by them. The Grimm snarled and roared, a sign of either victory or doom. However, the towering pile of Grimm started to vibrate, and some of the Grimm yelped and jumped off, tailing away in fear. Others continued to snarl at the bottom of the pile, clawing their way through others to eat the huntsman, not noticing the shaking.
Suddenly, an explosion sounded, and the Grimm were blasted off the pile. Some crashed into buildings or into each other. Others closer to the source of the explosion at the center of the pile were dismembered, their remains crumbling into ashes and flying off in the cool breeze. Only the red of their blood remained, staining the street the color of roses.
The huntsman stood alone, panting in the explosion he had just created. Roman could only stare, amazed at the man's power. He could only think that someday he wanted to be that powerful. Unfortunately, he could no longer attend his combat school as he had no money to pay, and his potential wasn't high enough to just be let in. He honestly wasn't sure how the combat schools worked in their professional business.
Roman's mind reeled, flashing back to his parents' death. The huntsman had just stood there, watching as they died, watching as he almost died. A dumb, dastard huntsman that stood watch, refusing to do his job. Someone as powerful as him could have easily killed the Beowolf with one hit, yet he let it happen. Roman, his hair seeming to burn brightly like a fire, reared in anger. Without forethought, he moved to attack the recreant huntsman, awaiting his own turn just as the Grimm had done. He had joined their ranks, wanting to tear the huntsman limb from limb.
A small hand closed around Roman's forearm before he could make his rash move. He whipped his eyes to it and found the young, unusual girl standing before him, awake from her deep sleep. She seemed to understand the situation, seemed to understand who the huntsman was, as her eyes were wide with sorrow as she slowly shook her head. Another time, she mouthed. Roman shook his head violently, tears gathering in his eyes as he tried to wrestle away from the girl's grip.
"You d-don't understand," Roman cried out, his voice cracking. "It's him. He let my parents d-die."
The girl refused to look away, and her eyes said everything that her mouth couldn't. She understood his pain, his want to avenge his parents' death. She was sorry she had to stop him; she wanted revenge on the huntsman as much as Roman did for hurting him. However, she wanted to protect Roman just as much as he wanted to protect her, and he couldn't jump into this fight. He had only been to less than a year of combat school, and this man was a full-fledged, exceedingly powerful huntsman. It would be suicide, and Roman would leave Neo alone again, struggling to live by herself.
Roman perceived all of this in the look in her discolored eyes, and he crumbled under them. Tears started to create paths down his white cheeks, leaving wet trails in their wake.
"B-but he l-let it h-hap-pen," Roman stumbled out, but he succumbed to Neo's light tugging on his arm. He followed her back to the apartment building, up the stairs, through the living room and hallway, into the bedroom, and into the bed, where she tucked him in. She laid next to him, stroking his fiery hair, as he sobbed. She held him close, and he laid practically limp, his shoulder shaking, his whole body sagging, wishing to curl up into itself and disappear.
Neo didn't fall asleep for a while, wanting to make sure Roman wouldn't go after the huntsman if she did sleep. She laid, her arms wrapped around his shaking, weak frame as he dampened the sheets near his face and her own shirt. She continued to stroke his head, hoping to soothe him in a way she wished she had been soothed three years ago. It was all she could do for him, and it seemed to work as Roman lulled to sleep hours later, held securely in the arms of a small, beautiful, yet unusual girl.