I'm not sure exactly how long we held that hug, just sitting there in that alley. The feeling still hasn't left my arms. Nor has the hole in my soul... Or something. I don't know what I mean by that. 

My shoulder was damp for... Ever. Or maybe it dried out after a few moments in the sun. I don't really know.

I dunno anything.

Really. I know nothing. 

Felt nothing, either.

There was no sadness. Certainly no joy. No love, no hatred, nothing in between, and nothing anywhere around either of them.

If I felt anything, I guess I'd call it shame. Not the kind of shame that turns your face red, or makes you want to scream into a pillow. It was a shame that turned you inside out. The kind of shame that makes you slow down, and think. Slowly. Very, very slowly. 

By the end of it, you're not left with anything other than a hole in your soul and a blank look on your face. 

Because that's all you have in the face of shame. 

I dunno.

. . .

. . .

...

..

.

She was the first to speak. Her voice was shaky, almost unfamiliar. 

"Please... Please don't die..." 

It was like her words were spoken in crayon. Wobbly, cracked, almost illegible. Simple. 

I never understood crayons. I was always more drawn to pencils and markers.

"I won't." 

Out came an even more unfamiliar voice. My own. It was large. Firm. The words themselves seemed to have presence. A sort of pride. I didn't recognize any of it.

I needed to say something. I don't know why. Maybe for no other reason than proving that I'm still here. For whatever that's worth.

"I-I promise. I promise..."

My voice was hopelessly weak. Incoherent. Pathetic. I wasn't sure my words were strong enough to carry themselves to her ear, so I said it twice. 

These were my words. 

Thinking about it, maybe they were meant for me, too. Selfish. That same selfishness that brought us here. 

"I p-promise."

Even so, I repeated them.

If I'm going to be selfish, I'm going to make damn sure I hear the words I speak.

"I.... Promise." "I-"

"Thank you." Said a voice of crayon.

In that moment, I heard it. 

And I made damn sure.

And I made damn sure....

. . .

"Can... Can I still call you my sister?"

"Please... Bro." Sis said. "God... So cheesy..."

I smiled, and streams formed on my face. 

Finally, in that moment, 

I was allowed... Something. 

And I paid no mind to the darkness around my sleeves. 

. . . 

We met up with S shortly thereafter. I was worried that it'd be hard to find him, but it turned out to be trivial. I figured he'd be hungry, so we started looking around restaurants and stuff. After that, all we had to do was fallow the trail of people gawking and whispering amongst each other. The actual trail of rapidly drying blood was a pretty good indicator as well. Eventually, we just kinda ran into him as we followed the trails.

The first things I noticed when we met were the scars and the scratches all over his body. Remnants of a particularly bloody battle. It was clear he'd been healed, at least, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt to see.

It made me think of all the times Sis might've felt this hurt. Because of me.

And it made me wish I'd been there, that I'd have been strong enough to stop anyone from getting hurt in the first place.

Either way, it hurt to think about. Far more than any sword, beast, or interdimensional unicorn.

And then I looked up at his face.

Despite everything, he was smiling that same, stupid cheesy grin that he always had. 

Immediately, I realized just how much I needed to see that.

"Yo!" He greeted us with a smile.

And "Yo." I returned, just like we always did.  

And that was pretty good.

Though, I was still a little concerned about his injuries.

His story certainly didn't help. He was reluctant to tell us anything at first, claiming that he fought that one dude from the arena, and then ran into a few thugs, or something. Even I could tell that was obviously not the whole truth. 

Eventually, he realized that it wasn't much good to hide it from us, especially considering the previously mentioned trail of blood and still loudly gossiping witnesses.

"Right... Let me just say there was a reason I didn't wanna tell you this, alright?" S began. "That said... I guess you really ought to know."

S's story basically confirmed what Catface and I already suspected. People noticed the darkness. Dangerous people. People who know. And, if the past is any indication of the future, people aren't gonna play nice with that information.

I don't think Sis really cared all that much about our conversation, but that caught her attention. I noticed that she stepped closer to me, and started eying everyone in the crowd with her hand clenched firmly on the handle of her fishing rod. 

It hurt, seeing her pushed to that. Especially after everything that just happened.

Sis insisted that we leave. It was dangerous here in the city, it was crowded, and close to where it started. For all we knew, that place was worse than an active volcano.

I was inclined to agree.

From this point on, I've got a target on my back. And, by extension... So do the people around me. 

I can only pray that they don't know exactly who they're looking for. 

And that I can beat or escape the ones that do.

. . .

Now... How do I do that?

How can I do that?

These are some of the thoughts I had as I stood alone in the kitchen. It was late into the night. Maybe... 3, 4 in the morning, my time. 

I'd found little sleep during the night, eventually I just gave up trying. Of course, that meant I didn't end up meeting with DYN2 at all. I'd considered walking over to the river, where Sis was fishing the night away, and talking to them there, but I realized that they were the absolute last thing I needed right now.

So I didn't. I just... Got up, started walking around, taking care not to wake S up. Fortunately, he was snoring, which hopefully masked whatever sound I made, or something.

One thing dominated my thoughts as I stood alone in the kitchen, only interrupted by the blur I occasionally saw in the window that I thought looked a lot like the top of Sis's head and hat. Though, I figured I was just seeing things due to tiredness.

I thought about all the things that happened today.

And I thought about what I should do about it. What the right answer is to all of this.

I thought about S's injuries, all the pain that he went through all because some foolhardy brute wanted a piece of me, only to find that I'd run away out of fear, and weakness. So, they went to him instead.

I thought about Sis's tears, as she clung to my shirt and, with what little strength she had in the moment begged me not to die. After I abandoned her. Again.

Do I get stronger, ever stronger, focusing everything I have on my blade and my magic until I'm powerful enough to beat those who wish to harm me and the people I care about? Can I afford to accept the nature of this world and succumb to violence and brutality? Would accepting that simply invite further violence and, paradoxically, bring us more harm?

Do I try to avoid that, casting this world aside and focusing everything I have on my old world ways, having fun, relaxing, just being happy, alive and well with my friends and my... My family, for the sake of a happier future? Can I afford the risk of not being able to stop those who would get in the way of that? Would spitting in the face of this world only cause it to spit back ever harder, with daggers and fire?

Obviously, I realized there's no right answer to any of this. I wondered if there was an answer to anything. And it hurt. Bad.

My gaze eventually fell to the spoon drawer.

I decided I'd pull out a coin. 

Two sides, two faces... Values of the old and new world...

Hah... That's a cool metaphor.

Maybe that's what I need to help ease my mind?

. . .

No, that's stupid. Put it away.

. . .

But maybe.

. . .

No. This is serious. I don't have time for this.

. . .

Although, it could be important.

. . .

Ugh, no, th- But it- d- y- n-

. . .

. . .

. .

..

.

Indecision got the better of me. I dropped the coin.

And it got stuck between the floorboards.

Vertically.