Mark grabbed the brunette by her hand and left his house without a word to the dormant mother on the couch. The woman continued to lay there without care, as if an unremarkable breeze blew past.
Like that, the mother and son parted, just as it had been for every other day that the woman wasn't drunk or high. Almost saddeningly, the deadbeat could only notice her son when her mind was out of touch with the world, almost as if his existence was only in a dreamlike realm rather than reality.
Well, what she truly thought would remain a mystery. There was no reason to find out at this point. Not when all attempts to heal her had already failed.
Shutting the door, the couple stepped into the resplendent sunlight, alight with hope for the next day.
Now that he thought about it, Mark had learned how to accept failure from his mother. Only by trying his hardest, failing, somehow trying harder, and failing more, was he able to become used to the process of getting over hurdles and learning from them. He developed the ability to adapt.
Maybe he should go back and thank her, or maybe he will come back one day and do it then.
So long as he was concerned, returning to the southern district was far from his interests. Besides, it was in the process of turning to the slums. The vagrants on the street were already showing signs of restlessness.
The brunette turned to him with a questioning look on her face.
"Oh right, forgot to tell you about all that."
Clearing his throat, Mark recalled his morning with a smile on his face.
"My friends and I went on a little trip earlier today. It was kind of a bummer that the fog suddenly came down on us. We couldn't see more than a meter in front of us!"
He sighed.
"Things became slightly tricky afterward as we were stuck in the middle of the alleys and fairly lost. Then... One of my friends got a really stupid idea that hurt a few of us. I honestly didn't expect him to be such a lunatic."
Frowning, the brunette tilted her head.
"Ah, so that's how you ended up with a gash on your face, a cut on your ear, and a hole in your neck that is still bleeding? You might want to replace those bandages soon."
Mark looked at her with a deadpan expression.
"At least humor me for a moment. Anyway, after our walk we realized that the Spheks had been wiped out."
She blinked.
"Really? Huh. That was quick. Congratulations, I guess you won't have to be worrying about them anymore."
Nodding, the young man looked up at the skies.
The fog had cleared out the smog from the sky for some time, and the sun had somehow burned away the profound cover of clouds. All that remained was a pristine, blue sky. How nice it was to feel the sun's warm rays on his face.
While his mind got stuck in the sky, the brunette led him forward as they walked north. Eventually, she waved her hand in front of his face, trying to drag his consciousness back to the earth.
"What are you planning on doing now?"
Mark scratched his head.
"It would be nice if I could find a job back in the central district. At least as a bodyguard- maybe? Well, anything that doesn't have me risking my life will do, as long as they pay the right price. After that, it's just a matter of saving up until I can break out of this laborious cycle."
She smiled.
"That's pretty optimistic."
The young man lowered his head.
He knew that prices had still been increasing, and though the changes started to slow down, some costs were already exorbitant. Finding someone willing to pay him would be a daunting task. It was already bad enough with the factories in the east district, maybe the laborers will grow a backbone and revolt.
Either way, getting and keeping a job seemed impossible at the moment. Of course, the Hounds were always willing to receive him, but that wasn't work so much as it was lawless activities and extortion. Besides, he still hadn't forgiven Dean for firing in his direction. the lunatic was too unpredictable to be with.
Affiliating the gangs was his last resort for a reason. Staying brutality-free with bloodstains off his hands was a more respectable, less dangerous way to make a living.
Journeying through the central district, he checked out various stores and sights with the brunette with hands held together and without a care for the rest of the world. All that mattered to Mark at the moment was the soft, warm touch of her hand that was surprisingly hard to forget. It was as if the sensation of being with her was clinging to his mind and refusing to let go.
Then, they came upon a familiar intersection.
In front of his eyes, Mark saw a bar where he had worked and first met the brunette.
Except, it was no longer a bar. Rather, it was a wreck of a building.
Windows were shattered, their shards lay askew on the floor.
Burn marks and various cuts were scattered on the exterior of the frame.
From what he could see on the inside, everything was an irredeemable mess, gone of the former properties that it had once cherished. Chairs were broken and tables were flipped.
"This is..."
He didn't know what to feel about the bar. It had served his needs for a while, but it had also abandoned him.
Now at least, it also faced its share of troubles.
"Mark?"
The brunette nervously whispered.
"What is it?"
She clenched his hand.
"Look around."
So he did.
Dread began to shine in his eyes.
He hadn't realized it, but from the passing crowd, people had started to gather around him.
Now, he and the brunette were utterly encircled.
She whispered into his ear.
"I thought you said they were gone."
Biting his lip, he continued to survey the surroundings. He had honestly thought that Dean had wiped them out.
"My bad."
Whispering back into the brunette's ear, his eyes suddenly widened while the crowd parted.
It was a red-eyed man with a bleeding shoulder and insanity painted on his entire being.