The rest of the school day carried on with Nico following Killa like a shadow, never too overbearing but always present.
At first, Killa thought the kid would get bored and find someone else to bother, but Nico had the kind of persistence that bordered on ridiculous.
Even when Killa walked faster, the boy adjusted his pace. When he took sudden turns through the hallways, Nico followed without hesitation.
It was like he had decided—without asking for permission—that they were now friends.
Killa wasn't sure what to do with that.
By the time the final bell rang, students flooded the hallways, eager to escape the confines of school.
Killa slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way outside, hoping to put some distance between himself and Nico.
It didn't work.
"Where do you live?" Nico asked as he effortlessly kept pace with him.
Killa cast him a sideways glance. "Why do you care?"
Nico shrugged. "Just wondering."
Killa clicked his tongue, debating whether or not to answer. Most people at school already knew he lived at the orphanage, but it wasn't something he liked talking about.
"You ask a lot of questions," Killa muttered instead.
"Yeah, I do." Nico grinned, completely unfazed.
Killa sighed. "I live at St. Maria's."
Nico blinked. "Oh. The orphanage?"
Killa tensed slightly, waiting for the usual shift in expression—the awkward sympathy, the forced kindness.
But Nico just nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world. "That makes sense."
Killa frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Nico smirked. "It means you're tougher than most kids around here. I figured you had to be from somewhere that made you fight for everything."
Killa wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a compliment, but he felt strangely… understood.
He turned away, focusing on the road ahead. "Tch. You don't know anything."
Nico just chuckled. "Maybe. But I think I know enough."
For once, Killa didn't have a snarky reply.
By the time they reached the orphanage, the sky had taken on a deep orange hue, the sun hanging low on the horizon.
The iron gates loomed ahead, rusted at the edges but still standing tall.
Killa stopped just outside, turning to Nico with an expectant look. "Well? This is where we part ways."
Nico hesitated, glancing past the gate before looking back at Killa. "You ever sneak out?"
Killa scoffed. "What kind of question is that?"
Nico smirked. "A serious one."
Killa shook his head. "Go home, Nico."
Nico chuckled but didn't push further. He raised a hand in a lazy wave. "See you tomorrow, then?"
Killa sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Looks like I don't have a choice."
Nico grinned. "Nope."
Killa watched him leave, something unfamiliar settling in his chest.
For the first time in a long while, someone had willingly stuck around.
And it wasn't because of fear or reputation.
Nico just wanted to.
Killa wasn't sure what to make of that.
Shaking his head, he turned and stepped through the orphanage gates, already dreading whatever chores Maria had waiting for him.
But as he walked inside, he realized something strange.
For the first time in forever, school hadn't felt like a complete waste of time.
...
Killa had barely taken two steps inside when a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Killa."
He sighed. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Sister Maria stood near the entrance, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
She was still wearing her usual modest habit, though her sleeves were rolled up slightly, evidence that she had been busy tending to the orphanage's endless tasks.
Killa met her gaze with mild impatience. "What Maria?"
Maria raised an eyebrow. "You were almost late again."
Killa scoffed. "I got here before sundown."
"That doesn't mean you can push the limit every time," Maria said firmly, though there was no real bite to her words.
Killa shrugged. "I was just walking."
Maria studied him for a moment before sighing. "Dinner is soon. Finish your chores before then."
Killa muttered something under his breath but didn't argue. He knew the routine by now.
Without another word, he slipped past her, heading toward the back hall where the cleaning supplies were kept.
...
Chores at St. Maria's were second nature to Killa at this point. He swept the hallways with practiced efficiency, wiped down the old wooden benches, and made sure the front steps were clear of any stray debris.
The work wasn't hard—it was just monotonous. But tonight, for some reason, his mind wasn't as restless as usual.
He thought about the conversation with Maria. The meeting with Old Joe. And—surprisingly—the way Nico had stuck to him all day like an annoying but persistent shadow.
Killa didn't understand that kid.
Most people avoided him. Some respected him out of fear, and others just ignored him altogether. But Nico?
Nico was different.
He didn't act like Killa was some kind of thug or lost cause. He didn't flinch away like the other kids. He treated him like—like what? A normal person?
The thought unsettled Killa more than he cared to admit.
He exhaled sharply, shaking the thought away as he finished wiping down the last window.
By the time Killa finished his chores, the dining hall was already filling up.
Long wooden tables stretched across the room, each one occupied by kids of various ages, chattering and passing plates of food.
The atmosphere was warm, alive, and familiar.
Killa grabbed a tray and took his usual spot toward the back of the room, away from the loudest clusters of kids.
He wasn't a fan of the noise, and most of the others knew to leave him alone.
Except for Maria.
She walked past, placing a bowl of stew in front of him with a careful look. "Eat properly."
Killa rolled his eyes but picked up the spoon.
As he ate, his thoughts drifted again—to the gym, to Old Joe, to the feeling he got when he stood outside that ragged boxing ring and felt his pulse quicken.
Something told him this job wasn't just going to be about cleaning.
And for once, he didn't mind.