Walking Cliques

"Hey, you good-for-nothing donkeys! Don't you have a shred of shame teaming up on two girls like that?" Ishaan called out, clearly enjoying himself.

"Ishaan," Aaron said mildly, "donkeys are smarter."

"Fair point."

The bandits turned. One of them looked the boys up and down with open contempt.

"Lost tourists," he said. "How tragic."

"Great," Aaron muttered. "Walking clichés."

"Not like we're any less of a cliché right now," Ishaan admitted cheerfully. "But meh." His eyes lit up. "Come on then. I don't have all day."

Aaron said nothing. He stepped in front of the girls, posture loose, almost disinterested.

Ishaan's eyes locked onto the nearest thug. "Come on," he said, smiling. "I'm begging you."

The first thug lunged.

Ishaan moved like lightning — sidestepping with surgical precision. He grabbed the man's wrist mid-punch and twisted sharply. A dull pop. A yelp. Two quick strikes — neck and gut — and the man was down before the others reacted.

Another came from behind. Ishaan ducked the swing, spun low, swept the legs. As the man hit the ground, Ishaan's palm connected with his temple. Silent. Final.

Meanwhile, a third charged Aaron.

Aaron didn't move until the very last second. Then, with the slightest shift of his weight, he turned sideways. The attacker's momentum carried him forward. Aaron raised one arm like a conductor guiding a note — gently redirecting the man straight into the brick wall.

The impact echoed. The thug slid down.

Another grabbed a broken pipe and ran at Aaron, roaring. Aaron tilted his head, calculating. As the man swung, Aaron caught the pipe under one arm, twisted his hips, and used the thug's own force to spin him into the trash heap.

He didn't even break a sweat.

Ishaan, three metres away, caught this out of the corner of his eye and grinned wider.

Back in the middle of the alley, he caught the last thug's arm mid-punch, delivered a precise strike to the underside of the elbow — the man screamed — then finished with a low roundhouse kick to the knee that dropped him hard.

Silence.

The girls peeked around Aaron's shoulder. Six men, scattered and groaning across the wet concrete.

Aaron turned slightly. "Are either of you hurt?"

One of them shook her head, wide-eyed. "N-No."

A slight nod. His eyes were already scanning the shadows beyond the alley.

Ishaan rolled his neck. "Well," he said brightly, "this city's got a pretty charming welcome committee."

Aaron didn't smile. "We're done sightseeing for the day."

Then he gave the elder girl a princess carry, Ishaan took the younger one's hand, and they moved.

"You can't walk, and you're still shaken," Aaron said, trying to avoid the gaze of the awestruck girl, already at a pace. "Introductions later. Let's go."

"You will always be the most awkward guy in any room, you know that?" Ishaan said.

Aaron didn't answer, only a sour face. Which was an answer.