Chapter 1 – Awaken, Son of the Ruined Kingdom and His Mafioso Family

Far above, the songbirds play, their flight full of courage and curiosity. Below, Rosebell pulses with life as the bustling marketplace fills with chatter and the hum of everyday activity. Among the crowd is Brawler, his light-brown eyes fixed on something shiny behind the window of an armory.

It’s the dagger he’s been dreaming of -- the Fang Of Eborus -- a sleek, polished, creamy blade that gleams like ivory under the sun. On his way back to the newspaper house after his morning deliveries, he couldn’t resist pausing to admire it again. In his mind, the dagger isn’t just a weapon; it’s a symbol of something bigger, the kind of tool a Conqueror would wield on daring adventures.

“But the price tag…” He gives an uncharacteristic long sigh. It’s far beyond what his meager savings from odd jobs could ever cover. Even so, he lingers, imagining the weight of the blade in his hand and the adventures it could lead him to. Dapper etching mocks him from behind the glass, a sharp reminder that his part-time jobs barely cover his meals. But the thought of giving up doesn’t cross his mind. No, he’s saving -- slowly but surely. Rather than being let down, a driving force for his courage is right behind this glass.

He’s lost in this familiar daydream when the jingling of the armory’s door snaps him back to reality. A boy steps out, catching Brawler’s attention. At first, he seems like just another passerby, but something about him feels out of place.

The boy looks about Brawler’s age, possibly a little older. His neat, caramel-white academy uniform marks him as a resident of the wealthier side of the city. He glances back at the dagger in the window with a look of idle curiosity, before adjusting the strap of his leather satchel and walking away.

Brawler narrows his expression, a mix of confusion and unease bubbling up. What’s an academy kid doing here?

Most of them keep to their pristine halls, their hands ink-stained from books instead of bloodied by real life. They don’t step into the slums. They don’t loiter near back-alley weapons dealers, where the scent of iron and oil lingers like an unspoken challenge. And they sure as hell don’t stand in front of his dream like they belong there.

The dagger is his reverie, something he has been working toward for months. The thought of someone casually swooping in and snatching it away feels like a slap in the face.

Curiosity wins out. It always does.

He slips into the flow of people, keeping a careful distance as he tails the boy. The student leads him through the bustling streets and eventually into quieter alleyways, weaving past towering insulae and shadowy corners.

The city narrows. The air shifts. The scent of rust and damp brick clings to his senses. A place where the main roads cannot see.

Pit-pat. Pit-pat. Pit-pat.

The game is set.

Brawler’s smile grows, peacefully so. Feels more like a hunt now. A game of cat and mouse.

Then, abrupt stillness.

The boy stops. No hesitation, no second-guessing. He turns, eyes locking onto Brawler’s without an ounce of surprise.

“Why are you following me?” Not a demand. Not a startled inquiry. A calm, steady blade of a question, already knowing it will cut.

For half a second, Brawler considers playing dumb. Then he grins -- wide, easy, infuriatingly shameless.

“Hihihi~. Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out,” he says, rubbing the back of his head in exaggerated nonchalance. “You just seemed real interested in that dagger back there.”

The boy's brow furrows, the shift in expression almost imperceptible. A trained gesture, perfected through years of study. “And that’s why you followed me?"

Brawler shrugs. “Well, yeah. It’s not every day you see someone like you looking at something like that. What’s an academy kid need with a dagger, anyway? Planning an adventure or something?”

For the first time, hesitation flickers in the boy’s eyes. A crack in the well-practiced mask. “I wasn’t planning on buying it, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just… like imagining things. Like being a Co--”

His mouth snaps shut. A near-mistake. Carelessly declaring such a thing could land him days in a cell rather than the classroom. Vigilant to choose his words wisely, he continues, “Like, exploring dangerous places, fighting monsters…”

Brawler’s grin turns candid. “No way! Me too! I’ve been saving up for that dagger forever. It’s gonna be my first real weapon -- once I can afford it.”

The moment hangs. The air between them shifts.

For an instant -- just an instant -- it feels like the world has started to spin in a different direction.

Neither of them know it yet.

The boy’s shoulders ease, suspicion fading as curiosity takes over. “My name’s Leader,” he says, extending a hand cautiously.

Brawler grabs it with a firm, energetic shake, his countenance sly and infectious. “Brawler. Nice to meet you, dagger tag-teamer.”

Leader quirks an eyebrow at the nickname but smirks despite himself. “Nice to meet you too, scarf-wearer. You’re not bad at tailing someone, I’ll give you that. Though you might want to work on being, you know, less obvious.”

“Can’t promise that,” Brawler replies, his tone light and gaze steady. “But hey, since we’ve got our sights set on the same goal, how about this? We could team up. That blade’s one of a kind, right? With a partner, we stand a chance of making it ours.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea…”

Brawler leans in, his voice dropping slightly playful. “Or, we could keep it simple -- and be rivals.”

“R-Rivals??”

“The coolest most epic rivals ever! Fighting all out, no holding back. Don’t you find it epic? Don’t you find it romantic? We each want the same thing but only one of us can have it! Or we can be like brothers and share. Your call, Leader.”

Leader blinks, caught off guard by the mix of confidence and camaraderie in Brawler’s suggestion. He looks at the younger boy, studying him and shifting his academy uniform before replying. “Rivals, huh? You have a lot of nerve for someone who has been following me around like a lost puppy.”

“Puppy?” Brawler chuckles with a bounce in his step. “Nah, I’m more like a hawk -- watching, planning. And I think we’d make a pretty solid team. But hey, if you’d rather compete, I’m fine with that too. Just don’t blame me when you lose.”

Leader considers this, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a half-irked smile. “Alright,” he says finally, his tone cautious but intrigued. “We team up. But only if you agree to cut out the stalking.”

Brawler shoots back with a laugh, already turning to lead the way. “What do you mean, ‘stalking’? I’ve just started following you.”

“Well, why did you feel a need to be following me around for the past few days? If you wanted to talk, you could have just gone up to me directly.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“Umm… I mean, you have been following me lately, so I thought ‘Why not just go up and talk to me’… or something like that.”

Brawler lifts the side of his glasses frame. He invades the boy’s personal space again, enough to make him blush. He perfectly understands what Leader is asking, but it’s the question itself doesn’t make sense. “What are you talking about?”

“Huh…?? …Come on, please don’t try to frighten me anymore. I know I heard you behind me many times earlier this week too.”

The expression on Brawler’s face, initially taking Leader’s worry at face value, is equally as confused.

“You know… Pit-pat, pit-pat. Those footsteps have been following behind me this whole time. That was you, right?”

“A real alleyway monster? That can’t be. Even if we run into something like that, the solution’s simple: we use our dagger, no?”

“That wasn’t you?”

“I can say that I saw you yesterday walking around here. You looked like you were having a blast. I almost ran up to ask if you wanted to play. Actually, I’m surprised you even came to this part of the city at all.”

Leader glances at Brawler, following his gaze back to these alleyways he’d wandered the day before. He had been here -- but for reasons too embarrassing to admit for someone his age.

“Don’t tell me… You were on an adventure, weren’t you!”

Chip. The declaration cracks Leader’s armor, chipping away at his polished academy façade. Was it because they had bonded over a shared admiration for a dagger? The more they talk, the more Brawler’s sincerity shines through. For some reason, Leader feels like he could eventually tell him anything.

“Uh… right. Haha~. It’s kinda embarrassing. At the academy, I read this book about a hero exploring mythical caves, and I was psyched to try something similar. But, well, there aren’t any caves here in the capital, so… I made do.”

“So you ran down these alleys pretending you were in a cave?” Leader’s face flushes as Brawler bursts into laughter. He hangs his head, ashamed of his childish antics. A student at a prestigious academy no less, and here he was, playing make-believe.

“Pretty lame, huh…?”

Brawler steps closer and lightly punches him in the chest. “Lame? Are you kidding? That sounds awesome!”

Leader blinks, surprised. He looks at Brawler, who’s equal in stature but suddenly appears larger than life. “You… you really think so?”

“Of course! I’d get mad if anyone called adventuring lame. Yesterday, I was doing my own adventuring -- on the rooftops!”

“Rooftops? Wait, that actually sounds kind of cool.”

“It is. Except the part where I almost fell off once.”

“What?! That’s dangerous!”

“Every great adventure has its dangers. That’s what makes it worthwhile!”

Leader stares at him, unable to refute the statement. Against his better judgment, he finds himself agreeing. He has never seen a boy so candid. The fact Brawler’s brazenness can have him end up like Humpy Dumpy does, however, alarm him.

“Hey, Leader. You seem familiar with this area of the capital? Let’s play a game. How about some tag?”

Leader hesitates, glancing at the sky. Judging by the sun's angle, it’s already past four or five. He still has academy assignments and parents who worry if he stays out too late.

“Hmm…” Something tugs at him. If he declines, he might never see Brawler again. The capital is a sprawling, busy place. And there’s a trait about this spirited boy that Leader knows he doesn’t want to lose from sight. “Sure. But only until sundown.”

“Deal! Let’s use this side of town as the playing field -- all the way to Central Street!”

“Woah, isn’t that area too large? Are you sure you don’t want to make it smaller? You might get tired quickly.”

Brawler grins wickedly. “Do you really think that you can run faster just because you’re a little taller than me? I’m the adventurer of the east and this is my terrain. Winning against me won’t be easy.”

“Hooh~, an alley wolf of the east? I may not be quick to challenge, but I won’t go easy once you get me going.”

“Is that so? I also get pretty serious when I have to. I wouldn’t let my jokes fool you into going easy on me.”

“Good. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fun. Okay, you’re ‘it’ first.”

“You’re on. Ready, set--!”

“Wait!” Right before they take off, Leader notices a problem with the proposed game of tag. “Why not play a different game? It’s only us two. Tag would just turn into a game of chasing one another back and forth.”

“In that case, let’s go get more people to play with.” Brawler points down the alleyway, in the direction opposite where Central Street lay, towards the east and further from the bustling life that is the heart of the capital. “My home is that way. Lots of my friends there will be happy to join.”

“That side of town? Isn’t it a bit risky?”

“No. At least not the place I know of. Probably…?”

“You don’t sound certain at all!”

“It’s fine! Besides, you said it yourself, didn’t you? That this is the imaginary cave of Rosebell. So I’ll take you to the end where all the hidden treasure is. Follow me.”

Without waiting, Brawler takes off. Leader follows, their footsteps echoing against the cobbled alleys as they delve deeper into the labyrinth of the city.

The streets change the further they go. Cracked cobblestones give way to dirt paths, and sunlight filters through the gaps between run-down buildings. Instead of feeling desolate, the surroundings feel alive -- like the heart of untamed ruins waiting to be explored.

…

I take my new friend through the streets, weaving through a maze of shadows and light. Dim and narrow alleyways, wide open and abandoned squares, but all paths point toward one destination -- the far east of Rosebell, the city’s poorest quarter.

Leader keeps up with me, though he’s been running for over ten minutes now. The clean cobblestones gradually give way to drier, dirtier shades as we press forward. At last, a familiar landmark comes into view: a tall, abandoned insula building. With a beam, I point to its rooftop. “Over there!”

The building is the definition of “run-down.” Cracked walls, missing windows, and an eerie stillness make it look entirely uninhabited -- except for the laundry flapping on ropes in the cool breeze, it might as well be haunted.

Leader stops, staring at the structure with a puzzled expression. “Is that where your friends are?” he asks.

“Good guess, but no,” I reply, smirking. “That’s actually from where I saw you yesterday.”

“Oh, you’re right… I think I did wander as far as this area.”

I nod, proud of my sharp memory. Leader’s eyes flicker with inquisitiveness as he studies our surroundings, the same spark I saw when I first met him. This part of the city is nothing like the bustling markets or clean streets he’s used to, but his adventurous spirit draws him in. It’s easy to see why he’s fascinated.

“That’s where I live.”

“Seriously?” He sounds half-shocked, half-impressed.

“That’s right. Nobody cares about that abandoned place, so I claimed it. In other words, the whole building’s mine. I’m pretty rich, huh?”

He knows it would be rude, but the remark tickles his funny bone. “Pffft… Sure,” he stifles his laughter, shaking his head.

I keep walking. “Hey, where are you going?” Leader calls after me. “I thought we were going to your house.”

“We are,” I call over my shoulder. “That’s just my second house. Perhaps I’m wealthier than you think. My real home is a bit farther.”

Without waiting for a reply, I break into an easy jog. Leader follows, clearly catching on that I’m facetious about being wealthy. After all, we’re heading deeper into the east, the poorest part of Rosebell.

Structures not quite abandoned, dangerous alleyways, lively alleyways. I know the paths down the right ones like the back of my hand.

Our shoes crunch lightly as the cobblestones beneath us give way to cracked stone and finally rough dirt. It’s been another ten minutes of jogging, and Leader’s pace starts to lag. I glance back to see him muttering under his breath.

“This is what I get for sitting at a desk all day…” he says.

I smirk, slowing just enough to keep him close. This area is the farthest you can go east without hitting the city walls. To us, though, it’s the deepest part of the imaginary cave of Rosebell. The shabby brick buildings and hanging laundry give the place a strange charm, almost as if the colorful clothes waving in the breeze are cheering us on.

Leader didn’t feel out of place here, despite his clean academy uniform. He wasn’t upper-class -- or even middle-class, for that matter. His parents worked as low-ranking servants for nobles, so he was more familiar with modest surroundings like these than his outfit was letting on.

“How much farther?” he asks, his breath ragged.

“Just a bit more. You tired? Want me to slow down?”

“Not at all. There’s no way I’m letting you claim victory before we even start our competition.”

“Well said.” I grin, picking up the pace.

Finally, we reach the end of a wide alley, stepping out into a clearing just as the late evening sun bathes us in golden light.

At the heart of this imaginary cave lies a treasure: a wide and chipper square. Children in ragged clothes run, laugh, and play, their chaotic energy filling the air. Like me, most of them wear crimson scarves, their symbol of camaraderie.

The kids range in age, most between five and nine. But one girl stands out as the eldest around Brawler and Leader’s age. She’s chasing a half-naked boy who waves his torn shirt like a flag, cackling as he runs.

“Monster! Monster!” the boy shrieks.

“Come back here, you!” the girl shouts, her voice sisterly and playful.

I feel both happy and embarrassed by the scene, Leader next to me with his jaw open in astonishment.

“All my brothers and sisters. There’s never a dull moment with them around. Looks like fun, doesn’t it?”

“--Umm… yeah……hahaha~.”

“Everyone! Omine! I brought a new friend!”

The half-naked little boy stops running at the familiar bellow, the chaos around the area coming to an eye-of-the-storm pause. “Oh! It’s Brawler!”

Similar astonishments sprout, and the pandemonium from before returns twofold as they charge at the source. Unfortunately for the half-naked youngest boy, the eldest girl called Omine manages to finally catch and slips his clothes back on, as he too, races towards Brawler and Leader.

Leader takes a defensive stance, but I ease him. “It’s okay. These gentle runts are like family…”

The small kids do seem nice and gentle enough, Leader loosens before picking up a mischievous advice. “They’re such good kids it can be scary.”

“--Huh?! Gaaaaahhh!!!”

All twelve small children tackle Leader as a tsunami, a stampede of small hands and cute faces knocking him off his feet. “New friend, new friend!” “What’s your name?” “He has an academy outfit!” “Academy outfit? This must mean he’s Conrad’s friend too!”

Leader practically suffocates under the pile of the Omine Kyōdai, Brawler unable to contain his laughter.

“Don’t pull so hard --Gaaaahhhhh!”

“Hihihi~, they really do like you, don’t they?!”

“Plea--Please help!!”

Brawler wipes away his joyful tears and begins pulling the kids off of Leader. “Okay, guys, okay. Let Leader go. He’s had enough fun. Owww!!” He holds the back of his head. Omine has appeared behind him and delivered a well-placed knuckle punch.

“If you’re going to bring someone new to the Children’s Village, at least give them a proper greeting!”

“I did give him a proper greeting! I thought the killer wave is a tradition here.”

Omine sighs, clearly unimpressed, as she helps Leader to his feet. Her gentle smile disarms him, and for a moment, he forgets how to speak. Leader had noticed her earlier, but now, standing this close, her beauty catches him off guard. He’s met plenty of academy girls who turn heads, but Omine’s natural charm is in a league of its own.

Her orange eyes sparkle with warmth and her red hair is neatly held back by a single hairpin, giving her a graceful yet grounded appearance. There’s no embellishment, no extravagance to her outfit, yet every thread contrasts with the playtime clothes of the children because she’s the one wearing it… Most striking of all, though, is her expression -- kind, yet carrying an unshakable authority.

“I’m Omine. Welcome to the Family.”

“Yeah… Thanks. My name’s Leader.” He brushes himself off as Omine turns her attention to the younger kids, her kind yet commanding tone snapping them to attention, coaxing obedience rather than demanding it.

“We don’t want the whole city thinking we’re causing trouble now, do we? And remember, trying to suffocate the guests is not okay.”

““Okayyyyy~.””

The smallest boy, George, tugs at Omine’s skirt, his puppy eyes brimming with innocence. “Even if they’re a friend?”

“Yes, even if they’re a friend.”

One by one, the children step forward, rattling off their names with a mix of shyness and pride. From eldest to youngest boy, they are Christopher, Peter, Andrew, Martin, and George. The girls follow suit: Maria, Rita, Teresa, Clare, Rose, Valentine, and Emily.

Leader is astounded. “Are you all related?”

“Not by blood, but we’re still a family.”

Maria, the second eldest sister at the age of nine, puffs out her chest with confidence. “That’s right! We are the Omine Family!”

Peter, the third eldest brother at the age of eight, chimes in with pride. “Yeah, yeah! Omine is everyone’s big sister!”

Their enthusiasm leaves Omine blushing, and she waves them off with an embarrassed laugh. Meanwhile, Brawler leans in to whisper. “Her chops hurt a lot. Omine’s super nice, but if you get on her bad side, she’ll cave your face in.”

“I-I’ll keep that in mind.”

Martin, the second youngest brother, tugs at Brawler’s sleeve. “Hey, wanna play a game? Let’s play a game!”

“Oh yeah, Leader and I were about to play rounds of tag. Everyone’s invited to join.”

“Really?! Yay!”

“Booo, we were about to start kick the can.”

“Yeah, let’s play kick the can!”

Brawler crosses his arms, feigning deep thought. “So we’re going more competitive than tag. I like it~. What do you think, Leader?”

“Sure, why not?”

The kids cheer as the boys and some of the girls rally for kick the can, while the rest drift back to their game of house. Brawler takes charge, setting the boundaries. “The rundown houses box off the square, so those are the limits. You can hide anywhere -- inside the huts, on the rooftops… all fair game!”

As the guest of honor, Leader is chosen to be ‘it’ first. But before the game begins, he pulls Brawler aside. “Is it okay to go up against the younger ones…?”

“Are you asking me if we should hold back? Against my siblings?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re in for a surprise. Go all out. We both need to go all out if we’re going to survive.”

Leader steels himself, nodding as the game begins. And with that, the square explodes into laughter and chaos, the Children’s Village alive with the joy of play.

…

The games wind down and the children’s infectious excitement slowly gives way to exhaustion. The fiery hues of approaching sunset paint the sky as the Omine Family gathers their breaths, tired but smiling. Leader had originally planned to leave hours before sunset, yet here he is, sprawled on the ground with a fatigued grin. The energetic kids had given him a run for his money. Brawler is faceplanted nearby, equally worn out, his usual bravado tempered by the evening’s activities.

The sound of splashing water drifts from the artesian well as everyone takes quick showers, rinsing away the day’s dirt and sweat. Soon, a savory aroma begins to waft through the square, signaling the promise of dinner. Omine and the girls who hadn’t joined the games have been busy preparing the meal, and they now call everyone to eat.

The square, a battlefield of shouts and scuffling moments ago, transforms into a dining area. Omine approaches Leader with, her presence radiating calm amidst the bustle. “Leader, you’re welcome to join us.”

She guides him to the wooden table, where food is laid out: loaves of bread, glasses of water, and three large pots of a steaming, soup-like stew. It’s lavish, but the aroma alone is bolstering.

“Omine’s cooking is the best! You’re gonna love it!”

“Did you make all this? That’s amazing.”

Omine seems to blush at their handsome comments, her humility shining through. “Hehe~. Some of my sisters helped too. I hope you like it.”

She fills her plate with a slice of bread, a single spoonful of stew, and takes a glass of water before heading over to sit by her siblings along the crumbling brick walls.

Leader pauses, watching her closely. He notices the deliberate modesty in her portion. Brawler, who had reached for more bread just as all the younger children had, suddenly hovers over the breadbasket before only taking one slice, mirroring Omine’s choice.

“Are you not that hungry?”

“Oh, it’s not that. Omine works hard to make sure everyone’s fed. There’s not a ton to go around.” His tone lightens again, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “But it’s fine! If my brothers and sisters have energy, it just means more fun beating them in games~.”

Leader smiles at his friend’s upbeat attitude and follows their example. As the two settle on a set of collapsed bricks, Brawler digs in with gusto. “…And yet, this is no good! As a Conqueror, I can’t have these kids beating me so easily!”

“Wait… what did you just say?”

“I can’t have them beating me easily?”

“No, before that. Did you say… ‘Conqueror’?” To Leader, it sounds worse than a cuss word.

Brawler’s grin widens, unbothered by the weight of the term. And sure enough, Leader is surprised to hear him bring up the Conquerors in conversation with such ease.

Conquerors. They are the adventures who travel beyond the Auralis Gate and explore the world, laying claim to what they please and snatching their ambitions in hand. It just so happens that in Rosebell, Conquerors are effectively viewed in the same light as outlaws.

However, Leader has heard a few virtuous stories about Conquerors when conversing with one or two travelers hailing from outside of Maltrex. In all honesty, it wouldn’t be far off to say that Leader has always found himself admiring the possibility of exploring the Labyrinth as well.

Leader raises his eyebrows. “That’s kind of a taboo topic, you know. And yet you still want to become a Conqueror?”

“No, Leader. I already am a Conqueror. It’s just that I haven’t entered the Labyrinth yet.”

“Hahaha~. What the heck is that logic?”

Omine slid into the conversation, carrying her plate as she lowered herself gracefully. She let out a sigh, already anticipating the direction of their conversation. “Again with the Conqueror talk?”

Brawler leans back, unabashed. “Not my fault you don’t get how awesome Conquerors are. Leader gets it, right?”

Leader hesitates, sensing Omine’s skeptical glare. “They’re incr… interesting, I guess?”

“See? Leader doesn’t like them either.”

“Hey, he was about to call them incredible!”

“If you want to adventure, why not become a Nation Elite instead? They’re much more righteous.”

“Because one is awesome, and the other is less awesome. Simple as that. Of course, you wouldn’t understand, stupid, stupid, bleeeh -- ow! My tongue! Are you trying to kill me?!”

Even with the playful bickering, Leader felt an unprecedented sense of ease around them. These two, with their contrasting views, made the topic of the Labyrinth -- usually a taboo -- feel almost normal.

Leader: “Honestly, I think both Conquerors and Nation Elites are cool. They both explore the Labyrinth, right?”

“No way. They’re like night and day.”

“Yeah! For once, Omine’s right!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brawler waves her off, his grin undeterred. “Anyway, one day, I’ll reach the end of the Labyrinth. That’s a promise~.”

Omine rolls her eyes but smiles, deciding to steer the conversation elsewhere as the three of them continue their meal. “I expected talk about the Labyrinth from Brawler, but given the outfit you’re wearing, I assumed you would’ve been against the idea. That’s an academy uniform, right?”

“Ah, yes. Studying can be difficult at times, but I enjoy going to the library and reading stories more than anything. I love tales of heroism… That’s probably why I don’t mind talking freely about the Labyrinth.”

“Mmm, so you’re like the ‘I want to become a hero!’ type?”

“Sort of, but I’m not bold enough to yell it out like some book heroes do.”

“Hehe~, I totally understand.”

“Hihi~, I totally understand too.”

“You’re that exact type though!”

“No reason to say it. I’m already a Conqueror, after all.”

“Speaking of uniforms, why does it seem like everyone here has a scarf?”

Brawler answers in a resolute, exaggerated tenor. “They are kinda our symbol. The crimson scarves are like the blood of the Omine Family, tying us together.”

Omine flushes, her ears practically glowing. “I never said that at first! You just made it up after I gave you the scarf, and then everyone got caught up in the same idea!”

“Then that must mean I have great ideas. I am quite the inspirational man.”

“That’s not the point!”

Before Brawler can offer a rebuttal, their attention is pulled to the square by the sound of cheerful commotion. The children have rushed to the alleyway where Leader and Brawler first arrived, their demands raised in excitement.

“Conrad! Play your music again!” “Yeah, yeah! Your music!”

The kids tackle a newcomer, sending him stumbling. Omine quickly rushes over to free the young man asphyxiated by the pile of giggling children.

“Woah, it’s Conrad!” Brawler exclaims, gulping down the last of his drink and leaping to his feet.

“Do you know him?”

“He’s a dependable friend. Another brother of the Omine Family.”

Conrad, a year younger than Brawler, dusts himself off with a shy smile. His polished white-and-dark-blue collared suit, long taupe pants, and leather dress shoes make him look out of place in the run-down square. Yet, like everyone else, he wears a crimson scarf, slightly askew after the children’s enthusiastic greeting. His neatly combed golden hair is now slovenly, and his dark-grey eyes hold a polite but timid air.

Despite his wealth, Conrad speaks softly, with none of the condescension one might expect. He offers polite nods to everyone in the Omine Family, but when his eyes meet Leader’s academy uniform, he falters, quickly looking down.

Leader observes this with curiosity. Though he considers himself reserved, Conrad’s level of shyness seems otherworldly.

“That… that academy uniform you’re wearing… Are you from Heartfield Academy?”

Leader nods. “Yes, I am.”

Conrad’s voice rises slightly, his astonishment clear. “Woah… I’m jealous. My family could only afford Northview Academy. You must be a high-class noble.”

“Not at all. My family’s at the bottom of the aristocracy. They’re servants of the lowest nobles.”

“Seriously? And you still got into Heartfield?”

“Why do you sound so amazed? Is it that big of a deal?” Omine asks, inquisitive of Conrad’s amazement.

“Yes, it is! If you don’t have the money, you must be a genius…”

Leader laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Thanks, but I’m not a genius. I just like reading a lot.”

As the conversation continues, Conrad visibly relaxes. He straightens slightly, offering a proper introduction. “Either way, it’s nice to meet someone from Heartfield. My name is Conrad, and my noble family is Fraser.”

“I’m Leader. My noble family is Waller. But like I said, we’re the poorest around. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Leader… Are you a new member of the Omine Family?”

“I just brought him here today, so we don’t have a scarf for him yet.”

The two boys fist-bump, the gesture easy and familiar. “Brawler! Long time no see.”

“It’s only been two weeks, hasn’t it? Wait, did you just notice I was here?”

Conrad glances away sheepishly. “The newcomer… he’s intimidating…”

“Am I really that scary?”

“Hihi~, it’s okay. You’re only scary when you’re talking about an alleyway monster.”

Omine steps in, resting a comforting hand on Conrad’s shoulder. “If you want to get over that shyness, you should come here more often.”

“Give me a break… My body can’t handle the Family’s competitive games.”

The Kyōdai chime in enthusiastically. “Oh yeah, Leader joined us for some games!” “We destroyed him in kick the can!”

Conrad chuckles. “Uhahaha~. Valentine, you’re especially fast. No, everyone here is too fast. The first time I joined, my legs were jelly for days. First and last time, I tell you.”

Kyōdai: “Leader, you should see how funny Conrad runs!”

Conrad: “So rude… Suffice to say, I’ve always been more of a musician than an athlete.”

Leader: “Musician?”

Omine: “That’s right. Conrad plays the best music for everyone. Did you bring your instrument today?”

Conrad smirks as he begins unpacking his leather backpack. “You know I did.”

He reveals a unique-looking instrument, crafted from high-quality oakwood and polished steel. At first glance, it resembles a guitar, but its extraordinary number of strings and arched tuning handle make it unmistakably distinct.

Leader: “Whoa… Is that a guitar of some kind?”

Conrad: “Not quite. It’s called a lute.”

Leader: “I’ve never seen one before.”

Conrad: “Well, it’s a bit rare. My parents wanted me to learn the harp to impress nobles, but I insisted on something different. ‘If you want a guitar, learn one with as many strings as a harp,’ they said. So here I am, with this twenty-eight-string monstrosity.”

Leader: “Could I listen to a song? If it’s not too much trouble…”

Conrad’s shyness vanishes as he hovers his hand over the strings. His confidence shines. “There are things I can only express in music. Of course, you can listen -- all of you can.”

The children cheer as they pull Conrad to the center of the square. He plucks the strings, and the air fills with festive melodies. “Let’s party!”

Conrad performs a series of lively songs while the children dance joyfully. Leader, Brawler, and Omine sit on a collapsed brick wall, watching the celebration unfold. Conrad’s enthusiasm is infectious.

Leader murmurs, “He really opens up when he plays.”

Omine: “It’s like music turns him into a different person.”

Eventually, Omine joins the dancing, her laughter blending with the children’s. Leader watches, feeling a warmth he hasn’t experienced in a long time. But as night falls, he knows it’s time to leave.

Conrad finishes his final tune, a slower, more heartfelt melody. Brawler hums along.

“This song… It’s Omine’s lullaby.”

As Conrad plays a final, slower melody -- a lullaby -- the children scatter briefly to retrieve their crimson scarves. They wave them in a mesmerizing dance of red under the setting sun. Leader watches, entranced. He notices his hand unconsciously moving to his collar, realizing he is the only one without a scarf. The thought lingers as the songs end and the youngest children begin to doze off.

The sun has dipped over the horizon, the moon and stars brightly lighting up the capital wherever the lamps don’t.

Omine carries the smallest of the sleepy siblings to the huts with futon beds, and Brawler also helps her with the task. Conrad finishes packing up his lute and says his goodbyes to everyone. “See you, Leader. If the games are too much, arrive later like me.”

Leader forces a smile. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Leader earnestly thanks Omine for her hospitality and Brawler for inviting him. Saying his goodbyes to the Family, the feeling of exclusion grows heavier. Without a scarf, he can’t help but feel like an outsider. His thoughts spiral. Maybe they were just being polite. Perhaps I’m not really one of them.

Leader walks back through the alleyway, his head low. “It’s because I’m tired, yeah.” The peppy sounds of the Children’s Village fade behind him, replaced by the quiet rustle of the wind. He’s unsure if he’ll return.

…

“Wait! Leeeader!”

Leader turns to see Brawler sprinting toward him, scarf belt billowing in the wind, catching the moonlight like a banner of resolve that chases after its ruler.

“Leader… I forgot to tell you. Omine said she wanted to give you a scarf. You should’ve seen her face when she said it. She was blushing and everything. She worried you might feel left out.”

Leader hesitates, forcing a weak laugh. “Oh… Haha~, not at all…”

Brawler stops just in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulder and leaning in with intensity. “Don’t laugh it off! Not once did you look like you believed those words. If you want something, go for it! People won’t understand you if you start by lying to yourself. It’s fine to hesitate. It’s fine to doubt. But don’t make that your excuse to stop.”

Leader is astounded by Brawler’s childish naivety, contrasting with his mature understanding. Is it the environment that made him this way? Something tells Leader there is more to it. In any case, his assertions interrupts his stream of thought. He falls silent with introspection.

“Omine really meant it when she said she wanted to give you a scarf. If Omine wants to give you one, it means you’re one of us. That’s what she’s saying.”

Leader’s chest tightens, his ears turning slightly pink at Brawler’s earnest words. He tries to respond, but Brawler keeps going, his voice growing more passionate.

“Do you think a scarf is just a piece of cloth? No. It’s a promise greater than the Deities. It’s a declaration that you’re never alone. You don’t have to wear it, but it’s proof that someone’s got your back. So yeah, when you come back tomorrow, we’ll have one waiting for you. Omine’s scarf, my scarf, doesn’t matter. You’re part of the Family now. You just have to accept it.”

“When I come back tomorrow?”

Brawler’s grin widens, radiating confidence and warmth. He steps back, spreading his arms wide as the breeze picks up his scarf, making it flutter grandly. “Yeah! You will, won’t you? The crimson scarves are our Family’s symbol. They tie us together. If someone’s giving you one, it means they’re giving you a place to belong. And even if Omine didn’t say it, I would give you one myself. That’s what it means to be Family.”

Leader’s mind races, caught between disbelief and a flicker of hope. Brawler’s words cut through his hesitation like a blade. Slowly, a smile creeps across his face, mirrored by Brawler’s unshakable determination.

“…Yeah… Hahaha~. Yeah, absolutely.”

Brawler slaps him on the back, his laughter booming through the alleyway, the strings of friendship marking the start of a grand adventure.

…

Later that night, as I climb the steps of the abandoned insula where I first spotted Leader, a weak earthquake rattles the ground. Tiny bits of rubble and dust fall from the ceiling, but I don’t pay it much mind. These tremors are common in Rosebell, happening every few months.

Still, a rumor has been spreading. Travelers from beyond Rosebell -- and even the newspapers I sell -- claim these earthquakes are no longer confined to this city or even The Continent. They’re shaking the entire world.

“I wonder when that rumor started…?”

By the time I reach the rooftop, the tremor has faded. The night is calm and cool, the stars bright and clear. My improvised tent stands in the middle of the rooftop, tidy and inviting. The fire pit nearby has long gone out, but there’s no need to relight it tonight.

Under the tent lies my makeshift bed of old sheets. Aristocrats wouldn’t dream of sleeping on something like this -- or camping under the stars. They’d take it as an insult. But me? I’ve grown attached to this place. Just look at this view: the sprawling capital on all sides, the stars up above. Those rich nobles have no idea what they’re missing.

Instead of flopping onto my bed, I walk to the railing. From here, you can see everything: the grand castle to the northwest, the Auralis Gate to the southwest. If you stretch your arms out, you can pretend to crush them both in your hands.

“Without a doubt, this is the best view in all of Rosebell.”

Lowering my hands, I glance at my palms, smiling distantly. This little game of “grabbing the world” has become a habit of mine -- a reminder of the dreams I hold.

Turning back toward the tent, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. In the alleyway below, a figure comes into focus. That scarf, that steady gait -- there’s no mistaking her. It’s Omine.

I wave down, the casual gesture earning a glance. “Heyyy! Don’t push yourself too hard!”

She pauses, looking up at me, her dark orange eyes catching the dim moonlight. She raises a hand in a subdued wave, her voice warm yet composed as it carries up. “Mmm, thanks!”

I could ask her where she’s going. I already know. A few months ago, I got curious, following her all the way to the nightlife district. When she caught me trailing her, she got upset. She told me to go home and never follow her again. It was the first time I’d seen her cry.

Why was she crying? I have my guesses, but I don’t dwell on it. I’ve tried giving her money before -- extra earnings from my odd jobs -- but she always refuses. So instead, I bring food for the Family. Even then, she has trouble accepting it. She knows I’m saving up for something important, and she doesn’t want to take from that. But the Omine Family is important to me too. They’re my Family.

“Omine! Here you go!”

“Huh?”

Without hesitation, I toss a small bag down. It lands with a satisfying but solid thud in front of her.

“What did you throw?!” she shouts, bending to pick it up. “Rocks?!”

“Yeah,” I call back with a smirk. “I guess you could call them rocks.”

She opens the bag cautiously, the faintest tug of a smile breaking across her lips as she sees the coins inside. Her fingers brush over them, and for a moment, the quiet night feels warmer. “Giving a girl money like this is tasteless, you know,” she says, shaking her head, though her tone is light. “But… thanks. Can’t say no to free money, hehehe~.”

“Hey!” I call down, hands cupped around my mouth. “Don’t keep it for yourself! That’s the Family’s money!”

“Mmm, I know. Thanks.” She ties the bag shut and holds it dear. “But it’s okay -- we don’t need it.”

“Too bad! You picked it up, right? That makes it yours. Finders keepers. It’s the Omine Family’s money now!”

“Again with your logic breaker? One of these days, it’s going to backfire.”

“Not a chance!” I grin widely, bracing my arms against the railing. “By the way, you could use some of that money to buy Leader a scarf. You were totally blushing at his compliments earlier! Fhew, fhew~!”

“I-I was not! You must be mistaken!”

“Sure, sure,” I call back, leaning smugly on the railing. “Whatever you say, Omine.”

Her response is a wordless huff as she spins on her heel, the bag of coins held tight in her hand. She walks away briskly, her scarf trailing behind her like a ribbon of fire in the moonlight.

I watch her until she disappears from view, a strange warmth settling in my chest. The city feels quiet now, peaceful.

“Goodnight,” I murmur, even though she’s too far to hear. “Stay safe, wherever you’re going.”