The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting long, crooked shadows over the slum's narrow alleys. Noir Salvador moved quietly through the maze of shanties, his bare feet skipping over the puddles and debris that littered the ground. The scent of fried food, exhaust fumes, and trash hung heavy in the air. Just another day. Another day of survival.
He bent down and grabbed a tin can, slipping it into the ragged sack slung over his shoulder. His hands moved fast, sifting through the garbage like they knew exactly what to look for. To anyone else, this was desperation. To him? It was just life. His life.
Across the street, he spotted a group of kids, their faces glowing with excitement as they clutched new notebooks, pencils, and school bags. The start of the new term was coming up, and they looked like they were ready for it. Their laughter filled the air, carefree, like they didn't have a worry in the world.
Noir felt that familiar ache in his chest. The one that reminded him of everything he'd never had. No clean uniform. No brand-new pencils. No school.
But so what? He had something they didn't. He had his determination. Every day, he crouched by the local school, hidden in the shadows, listening to lessons he could never afford. And that was enough. For now, anyway.
A voice snapped him back to reality, harsh and slurred. He stiffened.
"Noir! What the hell are you doing, you lazy bastard?"
His heart jumped. He shoved a torn notebook deeper into his sack, fingers trembling. His adoptive father's footsteps pounded closer, each one echoing trouble. If he finds out I've been reading again...
He turned slowly to face the man, his stomach churning.
"What's that in your hand?" his father growled, eyes glassy with alcohol.
"Just junk," Noir muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. "Things to sell."
But the man wasn't convinced. He snatched the sack from Noir's grip, spilling its contents across the filthy ground. The torn notebook lay exposed. Noir's heart sank.
"You think you're smart?" His father sneered, snatching up the notebook. "Think you're better than us?"
"No, I—"
The slap came hard and fast, knocking Noir off balance. His cheek stung, but he didn't make a sound. He had learned not to. Showing weakness only made things worse.
"You been stealing again? Hiding stuff?" his father barked.
"No," Noir whispered. "I just found it... in the trash."
His father crushed the notebook under his boot, grinding it into the dirt. "That's what your dreams are worth. Trash. Just like you."
Noir watched as the paper crumbled. The ache in his chest grew, but he stayed still, expressionless. Reacting would only bring more pain.
Satisfied, his father stumbled off, cursing under his breath. Noir knelt down and carefully gathered the remains of the notebook. Most of the pages were ruined, but a few words still stood out. He tucked it back into his sack. Knowledge was my only weapon. Even in pieces, it was still mine.
"Hey... what was that all about?"
Noir's head shot up. A boy, maybe his age, stood nearby, looking out of place in his clean clothes and neat appearance. Noir recognized him—he'd seen him before, always outside the school.
"None of your business," Noir snapped, his voice harsh. He didn't need anyone's pity.
The boy didn't flinch. "I'm Jess," he said casually. "I've seen you around. You're always listening. Are you trying to learn?"
Noir stared at him, unsure of what to say. No one ever noticed him—especially not someone like Jess.
Jess pulled a small book from his bag, holding it out. "Here. It's an extra. Maybe it can help."
Noir blinked at the book. What does he want in return? Slowly, he reached for it, fingers brushing against the smooth, clean cover. A math book.
"Why?" Noir asked quietly.
Jess shrugged. "You looked like you needed it. And maybe... everyone deserves a chance, right?"
A chance. Noir held the book close to his chest, feeling something shift inside him. Is this what hope feels like?
"I'm Noir," he mumbled, still watching Jess with a wary eye.
Jess smiled. "Nice to meet you, Noir. Don't let those jerks get to you. I'm around the school most days. If you need more books, or just someone to talk to, you know where to find me."
Noir watched him walk away, his heart racing. The streets were the same, the noise the same, but for the first time, they felt a little... different. Like maybe they weren't so suffocating. Maybe, there was a way out after all.
The next day, Noir found himself outside the school again. He crouched low, hidden by the window, listening to the faint sounds of the teacher's voice. He half-expected Jess to show up, though he knew it was unlikely. People like Jess didn't hang around the slums for long.
But there he was, leaning casually against the wall, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"You know, you could come closer," Jess called softly, amusement in his voice.
Noir's heart raced. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.
Jess shrugged. "I said I'd help you, didn't I?"
Noir narrowed his eyes. "I didn't ask for your help."
"No, but you need it," Jess said simply. "And I've got extra food, if you want it."
Noir's stomach growled. He hadn't had a decent meal in days, but he wasn't about to accept charity. "What's your game?" he asked, his voice edged with suspicion.
"No game," Jess replied, his grin widening. "I just think you're smart. Smarter than most of the kids in that school."
Noir scowled. Flattery's not gonna work on me.
"You don't know anything about me," he muttered, though deep down, he couldn't help but feel a small flicker of pride.
Jess chuckled. "Maybe not yet. But I'd like to. Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just think... maybe we could be friends."
Friends? The word felt foreign to Noir. He didn't have friends. He didn't need them. But there was something about Jess that made him pause.
"Maybe," Noir said cautiously. "But I don't need your pity."
Jess shook his head, his eyes serious now. "It's not pity, Noir. It's respect."
For the first time in a long while, Noir felt a smile tug at his lips. Respect. That was a word he wasn't used to hearing, especially directed at him.
"Alright," Noir said softly, still not fully trusting, but willing to give it a shot. "Maybe we can be friends."
Jess grinned, his usual easy-going smile back in place. "Good. Because I've got a lot of extra books lying around at home, and it'd be a shame for them to go to waste."
They stood there for a moment, an unlikely pair, the noise of the slums fading into the background. For the first time in his life, Noir didn't feel quite so alone.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Jess asked, taking a step back toward the crowded street.
Noir hesitated but nodded. "Yeah… tomorrow."
As Jess disappeared into the sea of people, Noir clutched the book tighter to his chest, a strange warmth spreading through him. Maybe this is what hope feels like, he thought. Maybe there's more to life than just surviving.
The streets were still the same—loud, chaotic, unforgiving—but somehow, they didn't seem so daunting anymore. Noir turned and slipped back into the shadows, his steps a little lighter than before, his heart beating with something new—something that felt like the beginning of a way out.
Over the next few days, Jess kept his promise. Every day, he brought more books, sometimes food, and always, that easy smile that put Noir on edge. They'd sit together in the hidden corners of the slums, talking quietly about everything from math to science to the things Jess found boring about his fancy school. Noir listened more than he talked, but he found himself slowly letting his guard down.
It was hard not to. Jess was different from the people Noir had grown up with. He was genuine, or at least seemed to be. But Noir stayed cautious. Why does he keep coming back? he wondered. What does he want from me?
One evening, Jess leaned in, his voice low and full of excitement. "You know, Noir, I've been thinking... You're smarter than most of the kids at my school. But sneaking around like this? It's not gonna get you far. You need to do something bigger."
Noir's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"
Jess's grin widened. "I can get you inside. Just once. You could see what it's like. Maybe borrow some books, learn firsthand. No one would notice."
Noir's heart raced at the thought of stepping into a real classroom. It was tempting—more than tempting—but dangerous too.
"And what if we get caught?" he asked, his voice tense.
Jess waved it off. "We won't. And even if we do, I'll take the blame. Trust me, no one would ever suspect you're with me."
Noir studied Jess's face, searching for any hint of deceit. He didn't find any, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. After a long pause, he nodded slowly. "Alright. But we do it my way. No games."
Jess clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Deal."
As they parted ways that night, Noir couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing a dangerous game. But maybe that's what it takes, he thought. Maybe that's what I need to finally get out of this life.
The streets felt darker as he walked home, but for the first time, Noir didn't mind. He had a plan now. He had a way out—or at least, he had hope.