Saya and a group of girls laughed together as they walked outside the Uzamotobad Gakuen for Khoit Language Learners. One of the best language institutions in the Azu capital, the blue windows and desert sakura courtyards could convince tourists for it to be a luxury mall. In order to attend a school of massive prestige, a portion of the salaries from both of Saya’s parents earned would contribute to paying the semester tuition. In this respect, the Izdaha residence would remain a tiny hut back in Al-Shinkyou, and Saya would gain complete comprehension of the Standard Khoit Dialect.

Wearing full uniforms of plaid skirts and white dress shirts, Saya and the others were the embodiment of Azutami’s youth. In the winding parking lot, a young man stepped onto the ceramic tiles of the Gakuen.

“I gotta go now,” Saya said, her black hair whipping around as she fixed her shoes. L was waiting for her a hundred strides away, wearing casual clothing. He held up a peace sign.

“Uwah, is that your older brother over there? Meccha ikemen yan! I want a brother like that!” One of the girls spoke while she covered her mouth.

“Are you listening? He’s a cousin from my mom’s side!” Saya shushed her as she ran ahead and waved back to them.

Saya and L walked together in the direction of Kita Station. The old streets bore signs of gentrification, the local shops with their new shining lights and flashing color. In the bustling metropolis, there was no scent of pollution except for the tabako cigarettes which plagued the balconies and sitting areas.

“What happened to your uniform?”

“I’m off duty today, so I filled in to pick you up,” L stretched his arms up in the air with a yawn, “Your stomach empty?”

“A little bit,” She whispered softly.

“How about we get some pandesal?”

“Iran yo,” Saya swung her handbag at him. “Do you eat pandesal every single day?”

“Hah? They’re too delicious to not be eaten by me,” He caught it just in time.

Nutaarsaarsuk Teahouse. They sat at a round table, as L ordered them green tsaa along with pandesal for himself. Saya gripped her cup intensely, while staring at the shokutaku.

“Something on your mind?” L sipped his tea, before piecing the Buhang bread in two.

“Lately I’ve been thinking… Am I doing anything right?” She fiddled around with her skirt and fingers, “My classmates always say how they’re going to pursue a career, or graduate with a technical skill. But when I look at myself, I wonder if swinging a sword really is beneficial.

“I know that one day, Obaa will be gone. My mom and dad, too, even you. Would I be able to survive by myself?...”

Her monologue sunk into the atmosphere of the teahouse. L crossed his legs and put his hands on the table.

“‘The other bonsai is always more blue than thine own’. Only compare your life to yours alone. Your mother’s family has borne so many burdens to bring you into a place where you wouldn’t need to worry about anything,” He shut himself up when he brought up her mother’s family. “Anyways, no need to compare. And if anyone close to you passes away, you’re allowed to cry. No one gets rewarded for holding their grief inside. But it’s after that is when you keep marching forward. Got it?”

Saya nodded. She and L both had a high-five. When they finished the brief tea break, L walked her to the station that departed to Al-Shinkyou.

Saya set down her arm after using it to block out the sun. The kiosk employee greeted her as she entered the café. She held her bracelet carefully so that it wouldn’t fall off. If her guess was right, she knew Toya strolled around this part of the district, along with Kwazhak as well. Maybe it was his attempts at trying to convince her. Sure enough, the woman came walking down the sidewalk outside the large glass windows. Saya waved, but was simply ignored. It took her running to Toya in order to get her attention.

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“If you’re going to induce me on your foolish plan, then I preëmptively decline,” She sat down at the same table, crossing her legs. Saya still sighed in relief.

“What lies has the KWKK told you, Ms. Toya?” Saya let out, while Toya did not respond immediately.

“The truth in those lies that your warped brain fails to see.”

“Did you not know of Kwazhak’s passing?-”

“I know enough!...” She slammed her fist on the table, spilling the menus and stands onto the floor. “I have to live. He was the only threat to my title, and now it is secured.”

“You give a damn about his life, yet you speak of it as nothing.”

“You don’t know what it’s like being at the top of the system, little girl,” Toya rested her head on her hands, “Even if you become the champion, you’ll never break free of it. They confine you to this cultist city, while you wonder: when are you going to be set free? Leave? But you don’t, you’re forced to fight the winner of the Kazaàd Major each year, and if they kill you, they’ll become the next champion. And then the endless cycle repeats.”

“If you suffer so much here…” Saya held her hands at her own chest, “Then don’t stop us from trying to escape. That alone will do us good. But if there’s at least a chance, even if it’s a slim one… I want you to come with us.”

Toya stood up and headed for the door. “Tch. Do as you please. Whether it’s you or that Buhang, I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Saya tightened her fist at the stubbornness. She came all this way, the person she had idolized when she was growing up, to find her the most difficult person to deal with. Saya noticed the collar around Toya’s neck. But there was no time to frown. Tomorrow, Saya and Suruj would face off against each other.

If only she was smarter, decisive, and witty, Saya thought. Someone like L, Kwazhak, or any other adult. Even if she was eighteen, the resentment she had on her immaturity bore no bounds. Saya couldn’t be like them, so she needed to find her own way through it.

The howling wind shook the massive buildings, as the dark sky peered on in the distance. Saya had just finished talking to Karam, who would infiltrate the Al-Fuhsya. As they parted ways, she stopped by at the local panaderya. Exiting the bakery, she spotted Suruj walking along the pavement.

“Is everything ready with Karam?” He unwrapped the cellophane to reveal a golden cheese bread, taking a bite. They stood in the shade under the panaderya’s awning.

“Yes, she’ll enter tomorrow,” Saya leaned her back against the wall. “I heard the story. How her dad ended up in jail.”

“Kwazhak and I- No, Kwazhak helped the father with his food vendor, and in exchange he would repair the hologram recorder,” Suruj explained while gazing at the floor, “The device opened their eyes. But I feel guilty knowing that he is in jail and their stall is kaput.”

“When all of this is over, we’ll go and free him,” She reassured, holding her wrist.

Suruj sighed as he finished his bread. “It’s easier said than done. By the way, I’ve been worried about your bracelet.”

The two of them entered the alley behind the bakery. Full of broken machinery and rubbish, there was no one to be seen.

“Give me your hand with the bracelet,” He said calmly, as Saya raised up her arm. Suruj took her wrist with his three-fingered hand, while holding a tube in the other. It was forever since Thiệu mutilated him, and the memories stroked her mind. “Relax, it’s nori paste, those Azu adhesive stuff you use. It’ll work well for keeping the bracelet from breaking, but you can also break the glue with ease,” He scratched his nose while forcing a smile, “You can use sahar while we’re in the arena. But I’d rather not use it rashly.”

It reminded Saya of a time she slit her thumb while drawing a sword for the first time, and her father used nori glue over her hand. Infirmaries were expensive at that time compared to now, and her family were too poor to afford them.

Saya leaned forward and embraced Suruj in her arms. He didn’t move, while he was taken by surprise. Those little things that they enjoyed, weren’t for naught. If nobody spent their time doing anything, then surely everyone would have gone insane.

“Thank you…” Saya muffled her shaky voice as she buried her face into his shoulder. She remembered the warmth that Kwazhak had from when he hugged her. Just once, she thought. She wanted to feel that warmth again. “Suruj, you want to get out of here, right?”

A comforting silence swirled around. She didn’t want anyone to die any more.

“You left your lola in Wakoku, and I left Tvuj there too,” Suruj began to sniffle. “Of course I want to get out of here. And one day, I will go to the university and take Tvuj to see the beach.”

They let go of each other. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”