"This is my meat in your mouth, Mico! Let go!"
Zarn growled, clutching onto the thick steak with both hands as he planted his feet firmly against the cracked floor.
A deep, rumbling voice echoed in his mind. "You can make it weird all you want, I am not letting go."
Mico, his massive blue-flamed lion, had his jaws clamped around the other end of the steak, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief. The two had been locked in this silent war for the past five minutes, neither willing to back down. Zarn gritted his teeth and tugged harder, feeling the slick juices of the meat smear against his fingers.
"This is the first real meat I've had in months!" Zarn protested. "You've been hoarding all of it since the day you showed up!"
Mico didn't even dignify that with a response—at least, not a verbal one. Instead, the beast flicked his tail lazily, sending a trail of harmless blue embers into the air.
Then, he struck.
Before Zarn could react, Mico yanked forward and suddenly released his hold, sending Zarn stumbling backward. He barely had time to recover before Mico lunged, snatching the steak right out of his hands with a flick of his fangs.
Zarn stared, dumbfounded, as Mico pranced away like a smug victor, the steak hanging from his mouth.
"You cheating furball!" Zarn shouted after him.
"Survival of the fittest, little summoner," Mico's voice hummed in his head before he disappeared under the king sized bed in their one-room apartment.
Zarn let out a long, suffering sigh, wiping his greasy hands on his battle worn-out pants. It wasn't like he was starving—he had more than enough to get any ration of choice, bread, vegetables, nutrient packs. But still, was it too much to ask to have meat just once? Just once in three years?
He pressed a hand to his chest, exhaling slowly. The brief scuffle a reminder that he was fine today. His body had always felt fragile and weak despite not actually being exhausted. Some days, even walking felt like a battle, as though his own muscles refused to obey him.
Zarn looked up just in time to see Mico returning, licking his chops with pure satisfaction. The sight was almost enough to make Zarn throw a rock at him. Almost.
Instead, he just shook his head. "I hate you."
Mico flopped down beside him, stretching out like a lazy king. "You love me."
Zarn snorted but didn't argue. He turned his gaze to the wall opposite their bed. "It's almost time for the show."
"Oh, no, you don't." Mico's voice was firm. "You finally have a good day for the first time in forever, and you spent most of it inside. It's time to go out."
"But my show—" Zarn started.
"It's garbage." Mico cut him off. "The actors barely even try. The only reason it's popular is because a few high-level Senar users endorsed it." He huffed. "Teens will watch anything as long as it's trending."
Zarn sighed. He knew Mico had a point. The show was more hype than substance, but still, it was something to pass the time.
Before he could protest further, Mico nudged him. "Come on. Let's go for a walk."
Resting while I am weak is counter-productive, so I don't rest. I rather rest on days like this... Too bad. Zarn thought to himself.
He hesitated, but he pushed himself up. There was no resistance, no sluggishness—his limbs responded exactly as they should.
This was what Mico meant by a good day.
On a good day, he was fine. Just fine. He could move freely, breathe easily, even tap into his full strength if he wanted.
And today was one of those days.
With Mico padding beside him, they stepped out into the dim glow of the ever-glorious slump.
_______________________________________________
The city's slums stretched endlessly, bathed by the gentle light of the moon. Rusted metal sheets and crumbling concrete formed a maze of buildings, packed so tightly that only narrow alleys separated them. Flickering neon signs hummed overhead, some barely clinging to life. The air smelled of oil, damp stone, and the lingering spice of street food.
Zarn's boots scuffed against the pavement as he walked, hands tucked into his pockets. Beside him, Mico moved with silent grace, his massive paws barely making a sound. The blue flames of his mane flickered softly, dimming just enough to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Not that it mattered—people here had long since stopped staring.
They strolled in companionable silence until Mico let out an exaggerated yawn.
"I'm hungry," he announced.
Zarn stopped, slowly turning to stare at the beast. "...You just ate."
"And?" Mico's golden eyes gleamed. "I'm still growing."
Zarn pinched the bridge of his nose. "You eat more than I do."
"Of course I do. I'm an apex predator. You're just… you."
Zarn didn't even bother responding. Instead, he sighed and changed direction. There was no use arguing when it came to food.
They soon reached a small street-side shop nestled between two rundown buildings. It wasn't much—just a counter facing the street, a couple of tables, and a faded awning that had probably been there since before Zarn was born. But the food was good, and more importantly, the owner didn't ask too many questions.
The smell of sizzling meat filled the air as they approached, making Zarn's stomach tighten with reluctant hunger. Mico wasted no time, sauntering up to the counter and plopping himself down.
The owner, a graying man with a round belly, barely glanced at them before calling over his shoulder. "Same as usual?"
Zarn nodded. "Yeah."
As the man got to work, the sharp sounds of chopping filled the quiet street. Zarn leaned against the counter, exhaling slowly. Mico stretched out, flicking his tail lazily.
Then, two girls arrived.
The first was tall, about Zarn's age, with sharp green eyes and dark shoulder-length hair tied in a messy ponytail. She moved with easy confidence, her gaze locking onto him the moment she entered.
"Zarn." She smirked.
Before Zarn could respond, a smaller figure pushed past her—a girl barely twelve, with the same dark hair in a neater cut and bright green eyes filled with mischief. She skidded to a stop in front of him.
"Hi, Zarn!"
Zarn blinked. "Hey, Lina."
Lina beamed. "I knew you'd be here! You always come late."
Her older sister scoffed. "You knew? Please. I'm the one who figured we'd run into him."
Lina shot her an unimpressed look. "You just don't want to admit I got here first, Mira."
Zarn sighed. Here we go again.
Mira crossed her arms and turned back to him with a smirk. "So, how's the rich and mysterious Zarn tonight?"
Zarn blinked. "...Rich?"
She waved a hand dismissively. "Don't play dumb. You eat here every day and never seem to run out of money."
Zarn chuckled. "Or maybe I just budget well."
Lina giggled, but Mira remained skeptical.
Mico yawned. "Are they going to fight over you again?"
Zarn ignored him.
Mira leaned on the counter, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "You know, Zarn… if you ever get tired of this oversized cat, I could show you a better time."
Lina puffed out her cheeks. "Hey! That's cheating! You're using your grown-up tactics again!"
Mira smirked. "It's called charm, kid. Try it when you're older."
Zarn just stared at them, expression blank.
Mico snickered. "Oh, I like them. They make your boring life fun."
Zarn rolled his eyes. "Can we just eat?"
Mira smirked. "Actually, we came to invite you out."
Lina nodded excitedly. "The Local Hub's hosting a big match tonight! The champion's fighting a rising star! You have to come!"
Zarn hesitated, but he knew there was no escape.
Mira leaned in. "Might as well say yes now. It'll be more fun if you don't waste time pretending to argue."
Zarn sighed. "Fine."
Lina beamed while Mira looked smug.
Mico looked over, a grin on his feline features, "Yea! Do the both of them."
Zarn's voice boomed in Mico's head. "They said the Local Hub not the Local Cub, you lecherous lion!"