The city of Lumina was a tale of two worlds, and I lived in the one no one wanted to talk about.
After my shift at the convenience store ended, I stepped out into the cold night air, the neon lights of the shopping district fading behind me as I walked toward the train station. To my left, the skyscrapers of the financial district pierced the clouds, their glass facades glowing like beacons of wealth and power. To my right, the narrow streets of the East District stretched out, lined with crumbling apartment buildings, flickering streetlights, and the occasional stray cat rummaging through trash bags.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, my breath visible in the chilly air. "Another day, another paycheck," I muttered to myself, though the words felt hollow. The money I earned barely covered rent, let alone Mom's medical bills or Aiko's school expenses. But what choice did I have?
As I walked, I glanced at my watch and cursed under my breath. It was already past 10 PM, and I still had homework to finish. I picked up my pace, breaking into a jog as I navigated the labyrinth of alleys and side streets that led to our apartment. The East District wasn't the kind of place you wanted to linger in after dark, but it was home—for now, at least.
When I finally reached our building, I took the stairs two at a time, my lungs burning by the time I reached the fourth floor. I fumbled with the keys and pushed open the door, greeted by the faint smell of instant noodles and the sound of Aiko humming in the kitchen.
"Kaito! You're late," she called out, her voice cheerful despite the hour.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said, kicking off my shoes and dropping my bag by the door. Aiko was sitting at the small table, her schoolbooks spread out in front of her. At 12 years old, she was already smarter than I'd ever be, and she had a kindness about her that made the world feel a little less cruel.
"Did you eat?" I asked, ruffling her hair as I walked past.
"Not yet. I was waiting for you," she said, grinning up at me.
I sighed, but I couldn't help smiling. Aiko had a way of making even the worst days feel bearable. I grabbed a couple of instant noodle cups from the cupboard and set the kettle to boil. "You shouldn't wait for me, you know. You need to eat."
"I know, but it's more fun eating together," she said, closing her books and setting them aside.
We ate in silence, the only sound the slurping of noodles and the occasional creak of the old apartment. When we were done, I told Aiko to get ready for bed, and she obeyed without complaint, though she shot me a look that said she knew I'd be up late again.
Once she was asleep, I sat down at the rickety desk in the corner of the living room, surrounded by stacks of textbooks and notebooks. The desk was old and dusty, one of the legs propped up with a folded piece of paper to keep it from wobbling. I opened my math textbook and stared at the equations, my eyes already heavy with exhaustion.
Before I could even start, my phone buzzed. It was a call from the hospital.
"Mr. Renji, this is Nurse Tanaka," the voice on the other end said, polite but firm. "I'm calling to remind you that your mother's medical bill is due at the end of the month. If you're unable to pay, we may have to—"
"I know," I interrupted, my voice sharper than I intended. "I'll figure it out."
There was a pause on the other end, and then a soft sigh. "I understand. Please take care, Mr. Renji."
I hung up and leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. The numbers on the bill flashed in my mind, a mountain I couldn't climb no matter how hard I tried. I glanced at the mirror on the wall, catching a glimpse of my tired face. Dark circles under my eyes, a faint bruise on my cheek from the bullies, and a look of defeat that I couldn't quite shake.
"Get it together, Kaito," I muttered to myself before turning back to my homework.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Aiko clattering around in the kitchen. I groaned, dragging myself out of bed and into the tiny bathroom to splash water on my face. The mirror showed the same tired expression from the night before, but I forced a smile. For Aiko's sake, I had to keep going.
After a quick breakfast of toast and tea, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, Aiko trailing behind me. We parted ways at the corner—her to middle school, me to high school—and I watched her until she disappeared into the crowd, her bright red backpack a spot of color in the gray morning.
My school, Lumina East High, was a stark reminder of the city's divide. The rich kids—the ones who lived in the gleaming towers of the financial district—were treated like gods. They drove luxury cars, wore designer clothes, and walked the halls like they owned the place. The rest of us, the ones from the East District, were barely an afterthought.
I had no friends among the elite. My only companions were two other outcasts: Hiro, whose family ran a struggling ramen shop, and Yumi, who lived in a slightly better part of the East District but still couldn't afford the latest gadgets or trendy clothes. We stuck together, not because we liked each other—though we did—but because we understood what it meant to be invisible.
"Hey, Kaito," Hiro greeted me as I walked into the classroom, his usual grin in place. "You look like crap."
"Thanks," I said dryly, slumping into my seat. "You're a real motivational speaker."
Yumi rolled her eyes from across the room. "Ignore him. He's just jealous because you're taller."
I chuckled, but the laughter didn't reach my eyes. As the teacher walked in and the class settled down, I couldn't help but glance at the golden coin in my pocket. It felt heavier today, like it was waiting for something.
Or maybe I was just imagining things.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and I packed up my things, eager to get out of the classroom and away from the suffocating atmosphere. Hiro and Yumi followed me into the hallway, where the usual chaos of students rushing to their next class filled the air.
"So, what's the plan for lunch?" Hiro asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I brought leftovers from the shop. Dad made extra pork buns last night."
"Lucky," Yumi said, pulling a small bento box from her bag. "I've got rice and pickles. Again."
I shrugged, patting my empty stomach. "I've got nothing. Forgot to pack anything this morning."
Hiro grinned. "Don't worry, I'll share. You look like you need it."
Before I could respond, a voice cut through the noise, sharp and mocking.
"Well, well, if it isn't the East District trio. What's on the menu today? Instant noodles? Or maybe some expired bread from the discount store?"
I turned to see Ryo Takahashi leaning against a locker, his arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face. Ryo wasn't one of the ultra-rich elites, but his family was well-off enough to afford a nice apartment in the midtown district and a shiny sports car that he loved to show off. He had a knack for making everyone around him feel small, especially those of us from the East District.
"What do you want, Ryo?" I asked, my voice flat.
"Just checking in on my favorite charity cases," he said, pushing off the locker and walking toward us. "You know, it's amazing how you guys manage to survive on scraps. Must be tough."
Hiro stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Back off, Ryo. We're not in the mood for your crap today."
Ryo raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk never wavering. "Relax, Hiro. I'm just having a little fun. Besides, someone's got to remind you where you stand, right?"
Yumi rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's not worth the energy."
Ryo's gaze shifted to me, his eyes narrowing. "What about you, Kaito? You've been awfully quiet. Cat got your tongue? Or are you just too tired from working that dead-end job of yours?"
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to punch that smug look off his face, but I knew it wouldn't solve anything. Instead, I forced a tight smile. "We're done here, Ryo. Go bother someone else."
Ryo chuckled, shaking his head. "You're no fun, Kaito. But don't worry, I'll find a way to make things interesting for you. You can count on that."
With that, he turned and walked away, his laughter echoing down the hallway.
Hiro let out a frustrated sigh. "I hate that guy. One of these days, I'm gonna—"
"Don't," I interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He's not worth it."
Yumi nodded in agreement. "Kaito's right. Ryo's just looking for a reaction. The best thing we can do is ignore him."
I didn't say anything, but as I glanced down at the golden coin in my pocket, I couldn't help but wonder if Ryo's words held a hint of truth. Maybe I was just a charity case, a nobody destined to stay at the bottom.
But as the faint warmth of the coin spread through my hand, I felt a spark of something—hope, maybe, or defiance. Whatever it was, it made me think that maybe, just maybe, things could change.
And if they did, Ryo Takahashi would be the first to know.