The ronin walked alone on the street. Cottages and houses around him were painted in yellow or blue. The two colors were the two cheapest colors in the whole FASOTO and the most practical decoration option for the middle class. He could smell the scent of the bakery, yet he saw no one from the service window. The door next to it was closed, and the signboard beneath it said "bakery."
Akki peeked into the stone bakery after glancing at the half-timbered second floor. He uttered, "Hello?" From the second floor, a shout was made, "We are closed on the workdays!"
"You know who aren't?" Akki kept his patience although scolded. He was not the type that could be easily annoyed by bad attitudes. Also, he was on a quest to find cakes since Roal told him the pastries in Surt were great.
"Maybe those pathetic confectionery shops," he continued, stopping the ronin from thanking him, "Those profanities of baking must be open so that they could grovel in front of those jobless nobles." Akki left without a word as the man on the second floor went on. The man's words about confectionery and nobility evoked an urge in the ronin to think about the topic. Nevertheless, the thought was actively suppressed, and the heed was focused on buying cakes.
The Bohito strolled toward the center of the city. On his way, he saw rare beggars on the street and heard the workshops operating. He stopped in the middle of the road a few times just to peep through the windows of those giant wooden workshops, where timbers were processed into poles blacksmiths ordered, components needed to make horse hoes, chairs that sellers sold to families, planks and laths prepared for more constructions.
The practicality and productivity of these workshops were never what Akki would care about. He focused only on those laborers' visages, inspecting their emotions and wondering if they were satisfied with their lives. At least, the ronin himself could not endure the tediousness of sitting on the same stool every day for the same purpose.
It was like the Bohito was actually seeking dissatisfaction. He was pleased by the harmony on the farm and convinced that the problem would solve itself. Everywhere he had been, no issue bigger than a rat was found. It itched him. He thought the feeling was not jealousy, although he could not find the cause of such tiny itchiness.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Akki's aimless wander toward the center of the city only ended when he heard a muffled scream from the alley at his side. Akki felt a gust of strength reaching his head. He instantly looked in the direction of the scream, seeing a child being dragged out of a window with his mouth muffled by a mucky man in heavy clothes. The man saw Akki, too. He released the kid and had it fall on the ground, wasting no time before running.
"Twirl!" the ronin shouted in the excitement that he was unaware of. The terrified kidnapper had his head grabbed and forced his face to the ground before he could say a word. His nose was broken.
Unusually showing no mercy, the ronin flipped the man over and knocked off the man's front teeth. Akki could not see his own grinning face when a punch was followed by another punch. The rain of fists had torn the kidnapper's face into a plate with smashed flesh and shards of bones. As Twirl left Akki's body, he finally felt that dagger in his abdomen. It was the kidnapper's work before he fainted.
Letting his blood flow down his clothes and body, Akki drew the dagger out and threw it on the floor. He slowly stood up. Turning toward the exit of the alley, he saw the kid was already gone, and some guards in leather armor had come to his side.
"Are you okay, sir?"
"Your stomach is bleeding. You sure you're fine?"
"Do you need any medical aid?"
A blast of exhaustion had climbed up Akki's spine that he simply ignored the guards' questions. Akki walked toward the cake shop with a weird tranquility in him and the itchiness gone.
Roal made a big yawn on the bed after Akki opened the door. He flipped the quilt off his body while his eyes were still closed. Sitting up on the bed, he leisurely opened his eyes until he saw the ronin and gaped.
Akki held a wooden plate with two white tarts on it while half of his waist and a side of his hakama skirt were covered in blood. Yet, he had only a calm pleasure on his face. He placed the plate on the table, explaining, "I saw a scumbag trying to kidnap a kid on the street, so yeah."
"So you're fine?" Ranith walked toward the tarts as his trepidation for the ronin faded.
"I heal fast," Akki picked up a tart and sat on the crate of bread that the cowboy had sat on before, "Also, you're right. The cakes are great."
Biting down half of the tart, Roal responded with a hum.
"So," Akki said, paused due to slight shame, and continued, "I kind of spent all my fifty Boms." He locked his eyes on the tart, waiting for some criticism. He certainly deserved some.
"It's alright. We just need to pass on casinos. No big deal," Roal shoved the rest of the tart into his mouth. He licked the remaining cream on his fingers. Ranith figured they'd be gone when giving half of their money to the ronin. He chuckled.
"Right. That's surprising," Akki kept chewing. He was not interested in paying serious costs anyway.
The cowboy walked next to the window. He looked at the orange dawn with a mild smile on his face, "Let's go to the arena now. If I remember it correctly, tickets for two are cheaper than one." The last time he came, he was alone.