After Olui thanked the kind, blonde-haired boy for helping him gather his scattered belongings, he noticed something gleaming by his feet. A shiny medal, heavy and radiant, laying partially hidden underneath a seat. Even to an untrained eye like his, it was unmistakable: real gold, finely crafted at that. Olui's heartbeat quickened. The earlier humiliation he'd endured suddenly seemed like a small price to pay if it had led him to this discovery. A find like this could feed his family for weeks—months even. That was all he came here for, after all.
Life in the colonies was relentless. Food was scarce, the nearest cities were impossibly distant, and the merchants who supplied them were unreliable at best since they could take months to come. When his family had scraped together their savings to purchase a forged identification from one such merchant, it had been a desperate gamble. That money could have paid for weeks worth of food, but with an identification, Olui could ride on public transportation, open a bank account, get a real job and a real home instead of a tent. It would make life so much easier for him and his family. Luckily for him, it seems like the forged identification worked. For an empire that blasts praises of its purity and righteousness, it's ironic how there's Votyan merchants selling illegal goods here and there. Not that it matters to him, he can rest easy knowing that he can fetch food for his family without having to rely on that shady merchant.
Just as he was about to reach out for the gold medal, Olui's heart sank. The heavy sound of boots against metal announced the return of the imperial soldiers who had ransacked his belongings moments earlier. He instinctively hunched over and lowered his head, trying to make his presence as small as possible. Olui could hear the loud tsk coming from one of the soldier's mouth and an eyeroll so disapproving he could feel it from the back of his head.
"Hey... kid. You [---] a gold [---] around here? You know... red with [---], nice [---] spikes coming out [---]?"
Olui furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the soldier's Votyan. Even though he understood Votyan the most in his family, his grasp of the language was weak. The words half-formed in his mind like a puzzle missing key pieces. Sweat beaded on his brow and trickled down his back.
Surely, he's not talking to me right?
Olui gulped. He was about to open his mouth to confess to the soldier that he couldn't understand until the blonde-haired boy in front of him spoke up.
"Um, no... let me [---] for you."
Olui glanced up at the soldiers who had their full attention on the blonde-haired boy. His tension eased.
Of course, they wouldn't waste their time on someone like me.
Taking advantage of their distraction, Olui turned his gaze back to the medal. His fingers inched toward it and his heart raced with anticipation—
But before he could grasp it, the blonde-haired boy snatched it up and handed it to the soldiers.
"Here," the boy said, his voice steady despite his nervousness.
Olui's hand froze mid-air, his eyes widened, and his smile dropped. Olui blinked. His eyeballs rolled back up to the boy's back in a resentful glare.
But then his gaze caught something flapping in the boy's back pocket—a green banknote.
In one fluid motion, Olui's hand darted out and snatched the banknote. He tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn't as much as the medal would've fetched, but it was something. Even if it would get him only one more can of food, he'll gladly take it.
After the soldiers examined the medal, they praised the blonde-haired boy and barked some vulgar remarks at each other before laughing and walking away.
"Fucking idiot, don't lose [---] again! [---] would be PISSED!"
As the soldiers disappeared out into the station with their laughter fading, Olui exhaled a long sigh of relief. He was about to return to his seat when the blonde-haired boy turned to him with a bright, cheerful smile.
"Don't worry," The blonde-haired boy said, "I don't [---] come back. I'm Alfred [---]! What's [---] name?"
Olui twitched his eye at the boy as he tried to piece together his words. He's talking too fast. Too high-pitched. The blonde-haired boy smiled gingerly at Olui. To which, he mustered an awkward, crooked smile back.
What in the actual hells is this gold-thieving ass saying?
The blonde-haired boy pointed to himself then repeated his name.
"Alfred." Then, he pointed to Olui, "You?"
Olui glanced at the boy's finger then nodded, finally understanding his question. Olui pointed to himself and responded, "Olui."
Alfred smiled and stretched out his hand.
Olui begrudgingly clasped Alfred's hand with his, looking up at him warily. Alfred has a big smile on his face as he shook Olui's hand. To which, Olui mustered an even more awkward, crooked smile back. He was starting to feel guilty for stealing from this smiley boy. Oliver let go of Alfred's hand. No... he can't feel bad for what he has to do. Him and his family, they have to live too.
He needed to get away.
As their hands parted, Alfred's eyes flicked, just for a moment, to the pocket where Olui had stashed the stolen banknote. Panic surged through Olui. He quickly zipped up his jacket. His face became flustered and his hands became clammy. As he tried to compose himself, Olui said the only Votyan word he very clearly knew how to pronounce. He said it proudly and with utmost confidence.
"Bye!"
Quickly, Olui grabbed his belongings and shuffled to a seat farther away from Alfred. He was mindful in his steps but maybe a bit too mindful that it felt unnatural and overly deliberate.
Fuck... he didn't see it did he?
Olui slid into a new seat farther down the train, biting his nails as his leg bounced nervously. Every few seconds, he glanced back at Alfred, watching for any sign that the boy had realized the theft.
Fuck... fuck—