Symbolism

Suzy gets worried. "Are you okay? Your hand is bleeding."

He snaps out of it. "Uh, yeah. I just... remembered something."

"Remembered what?" She digs in her purse, pulls out bandages and disinfectant, and grabs his hand. "Hold still. This will hurt."

Kyo’s unfazed, still deep in thought. "Suzy. Can you tell me more about these people?"

"What people?"

"The royal guards."

She presses the cotton, watching blood fade beneath the sting. “They’re the top of the food chain. Old money, old power. Everyone answers to them.”

She starts wrapping. “They control everything... trade, law enforcement and even magic. They ban it publicly, but they’ve got their own using it behind closed doors. Experiments, assassinations, whatever keeps them untouchable.”

Kyo stares at the table. “Sounds familiar.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “They’re the kind you don’t cross unless you’ve got a death wish.” She finishes bandaging. "There you go."

"Thanks. Aren't they supposed to be the good guys?"

Suzy chuckles. "There's no good guys. You know that."

"Right. I'm talking about their public image."

"Yeah, I guess so. Nevermind that. What did you remember?"

Right then, the royal guard returns. "Did I miss anything? Dude, what happened to your hand?"

Kyo feels his blood boiling.

Relax, Kyo. Stay calm. Don’t blow this chance.

He fakes a smile. "Guess I got too drunk too quickly, hehe."

Suzy hides a laugh. She knows he’s full of shit.

Kyo composes himself. "Actually, I was just asking Suzy how one joins the royal guards. You take applications or is it a private club thing?"

The man smirks as he sits. "You? Join the royals? That’s rich. You’d have to scrub off a few layers of underworld stench first."

Kyo chuckles. "Funny. Coming from a royal who spends his nights drinking with people like us."

Suzy covers her mouth, trying not to laugh. "He’s got a point."

The man shrugs. "Information’s information. We all play our part. Some of us just do it cleaner."

Kyo leans forward, still calm. "Yeah? From where I’m sitting, the dirt looks the same."

The man laughs, but tension hides behind it. “Careful, friend. Talking like that can get you in trouble.”

Suzy’s eyes dart between them. “Boys, relax. We’re here to drink, not start a war.”

The man raises his glass. “Just making conversation. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

Kyo clinks his glass. “You’d be surprised how far guts can get you.”

The man smirks, sips, and sets it down. “Maybe. But in our world, it’s connections that matter. People like you don’t just get to walk in. You gotta get invited. Or you make yourself useful enough we can’t ignore you.”

Kyo meets his gaze. Useful enough, huh? He forces a smile. “Guess I’ll work on that.”

They keep drinking long after the topic fades, laughter and clinking glasses blending with the dull hum of the bar. Kyo nurses his drinks slowly, letting the other two burn through theirs. By the time the neon outside flickers with dawn, Suzy’s slurring and the royal can barely sit straight.

Kyo stands, steady. “Guess that’s my cue.” He tosses a few bills on the counter and slings Suzy’s arm over his shoulder.

She giggles the whole walk home, stumbling every step, perfume thick in the air. “You know,” she mumbles, “you could come in. I promise I don’t bite… much.”

Kyo sighs. “You’re drunk as hell, Suzy.”

“Then take advantage of me,” she teases with a lazy grin.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” He helps her to the door, waits till she’s inside, then walks off into the quiet streets.

By the time Kyo gets home, the streets are dead. He tosses his jacket over the chair, kicks off his boots, and collapses on the bed. The room smells faintly of smoke.

He stares at the ceiling, mind replaying the mark, the man, the memories. Every time he closes his eyes, the symbol burns brighter, like it wants to be remembered.

He thinks about Suzy’s words, about the faction’s reach, and what it’d take to get close enough to burn it all down.

Sleep never comes. When morning light creeps through the blinds, his eyes are still open, and his hand still aches beneath the bandage.

The night’s over, but his war has just begun.