There was never rest for Czesch and, apparently, he enjoyed it that way. Right after class, Pete sent him a text message to meet up at the crib. Told him to not to say a word to Annie, that it was a secret event and that she shouldn’t be in on it. After separating ways, Czesh went over there, only to find Pete, sitting alone on one of the boxes strewn around, hands grasping his hair as he looked down. A painter could probably make quite a decent picture out of that one and sell it for quite a lot. The Kid tapped his back twice, getting his attention.

“I´m here… what seems to be the problem?”

“Oh, Czesch!! First off, I´m… I´m sorry about last Thursday… I shouldn’t have tried going toe to toe with that Ruskie, and I shouldn’t have let you handle him alone…”

He wasn’t wrong by any means, but Czesch thought it better to dismiss it to make him feel better. The guy looked so down, he thought it would end up rubbing off on him.

“I let bygones be bygones… I´m getting the feeling that you didn’t just call me for that?”

“True, true… we are in deep shit… a bloody mess, that is.”

“Meaning?”                                                                     

“I owe some money to the wrong people.”

“Oh… that sort of shit.”

The leader of the Bloody Bastards began walking around, trying to get his mouth talking again.

“I got some money from the Italian mob. That´s the way we managed to pay up for a lot of the events up until now. The drinks, tickets, gas, everything was that money. And now they want it back… problem is, I couldn’t make it back, not even after selling things to a side…”

“Huh… so, we are in debt to the mob? How much?”

“ A lot, too much… Worst part, as insurance, I had to leave a property in case I didn’t pay back…”

“I´m guessing it was the crib? Not much else I can think of.”

“Man, I fucked up big this time… I really done screwed us all.”

He wanted to feel pity for Pete. Czesch really wanted to, but he also understood the invariable nature of contracts. His life revolved around those same ordeals, and not fulfilling one of them gave the mob full rights to take over. That was the world they lived in, and Czesch was just another cog in that machine.

There was also the matter of leaving that torn-down building as insurance. It wasn’t as if the mob really needed a battered building that desperately, there was a surplus of them. Besides… it was likely that the quantity borrowed far exceeded the value of the insurance so, in other words, Pete would be sleeping with the fishes if he didn’t do a thing.

“You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t have a solution, so… what is it?”

“… I don’t want to lose this place… we´ve had so many great moments in here… Oh god, I am a complete fuck up…”

Seeing him muttering to himself and sniveling like that put the Kid in a foul mood, as he got closer to shout in his ear.

“Pete!!”

“Argh!”

“What the hell do you want me for!? You have a plan, don´t you?”

Seeing Czesch so calm and ready definitely helped Pete catch his breath.

“Yes… Yes, yes! The plan, almost forgot… This may not sound too safe for you, but, but hear me out for a second here…”

“I´m all ears…”

And then Czesch listened in. And the more he heard, the more he churned at the prospect of doing as Pete proposed. After hearing it through, he began scratching the back of his neck.

“Is there no other way?”

“Would I turn to you if I had another? Come on, I´ve seen you pull off those moves at the disco, you know how to do it!”

“It´s a bit risky… and you are betting all your cards onto me.”

“I am… but Annie keeps on telling me you are a guy I can trust… and the line I´m walking right now is too thin…”

“You mean the line WE are walking, correct?”

“Huh? Didn’t I say that?”

“You said the line “I´m” walking, not “we´re” walking.”

“Must have misspelled… anyway, I seriously need you right now! Do it for the group!”

Czesch sighed. His entire life revolved around violence, he saw that much from the way things were going. Not even during his “vacation” could he spend his time calmly… not that he wanted to, anyway.

“I´m in… tomorrow at 11 PM, right?”

“Yes, yes! Thank you, thank you so much, Czesch!  I´ll never-“

There it was again, that “door-to-door salesman” attitude when talking sometimes. It irked the Kid so much he signaled him to stop with his hand. Thanking him before even starting was the worst possible jinx of them all.

“Thank me after we are done and only if we get through. Otherwise, just pick me up in case I get fucked up beyond repair.”

Asking for a loan is a bit like betting. You ask for money and you are asked to return that money with an interest, unsure as to whether you can owe up to that interest or you end up like Pete in this situation. In betting, you put up your cash on to luck´s hands and hope that you can earn that interest back. And now Pete was betting his remaining cash on one stroke of genius.

The genius was, apparently, Czesch. And the stroke was illegal kickboxing.

It´s hard enough to get into one of the kickboxing fights done every Wednesday 2 blocks away from Butcher Square in Harville. It is even harder to get an underage to play the part of one of the fighters. But Czesch looked the part enough and he was admitted without any background check of sorts, due to his outrageous claims and bravado. The easy part was now done, and now the hard part was about to begin.

Each fighter had to individually pick an opponent to rustle with. Depending on the fights, people would bet their hard earned money on who they thought would win the match. And, in the fights on Butcher Square, no sane man would pick up Hank “Cocksmacker” as his opponent. Luckily for Czesch, his sanity came and went like the sun during October over in Northern Europe.

Hank was renowned for not having been beat in 18 years, still maintaining great speed and muscle even at his 40s. Only one man had managed to beat him beforehand, and that had shaken up Hank so much that he retired 1 year from competing, only to come back an unstoppable force. Measuring builds and overall look, all bidders in the fight knew that Hank was the only sensible option, with the riskier players seeing the challenger too green to bet on.

And that was what Pete and Czesch had betted upon.

They had to choose a fight in which people would bet entire fortunes on the opponent. And, being a fight with the undisputed champion, people were going overboard to get pennies off of it. Pete had put money on Czesch, hoping his true skill wasn’t just a showpiece and it could truly bring that hulking beast down. Czesch was hoping the same as he entered the arena, dozens of violent-looking men and women shouting at him and throwing insults.

Pete gave him a mouthpiece before the fight and some bandages for his arms. The Kid merely looked at them with curiosity, unsure as to what to do.

“What are these for?”

“Errrr, you don’t know? For protection?”

“Oh.”

Czesch, disinterestedly, put the mouthpiece on and entered the ring. People were blaring and cheering as if this were a usual Saturday match in Harville football. The announcer entered as well, flamboyant as an announcer ought to be.

“To my right!!! Weighing 190 pounds, 6 feet tall and with fists the size of bowling balls, the favourite of our small establishment here in Butcher Square… Hank, the “Cocksmacker”!!!”

A brutal cheer came from the masses, as Hank raised his fists and screamed for their amusement. It was clear who the favourite was, but the Kid kept on moving his shoulders around, getting them loose and ready to move.

“And to my left!!! Weighing 160 pounds, more than 5 and a half feet tall and asking for a deathwish, a newcomer with something to prove to the masses…Chess, the “Mad Dancer”!!”

The volley of booing and overall dissatisfaction with Hank´s opponent were more than notable. They thought that Czesch had been forced to enter through a bet of sorts. They weren´t too far off, though. To add further insult to injury, they had mispronounced his name again. Pete, still being close enough to him, nervously shouted to his ear.

“Are you sure that nickname was the right one to pick!?”

“It´s what I´ll do once things get heated up!”

They both got in front of each other, fists ready to fly. His opponent was stronger, taller and, to the eyes of an expert pugilist, also fast. Nothing out of the ordinary for Czesch, who kept facing such odds time and time again.

“You are going to squirm, little rat. And I won´t stop until you´re bleeding on the floor!”

The crowd cheered at that comment. It seems he had to say something similar, so he cleared his voice and, with a smile to boot, gave his rebuttal.

“You have till round 3 to do that. After that, the fight is mine.”

Hank and the rest of the crowd laughed at that statement, thinking that the boy had lost his last shrewd of sanity. They weren’t far off with that either. Czesch had agreed to this begrudgingly, knowing that he´d end up with more bruises than he´d want to. But it was a nice change of pace. Besides, he had to practice his hand-to-hand skills a little bit to not get them too rusty. He liked depending on the knife, but his fists also screamed for some action.

And with that, the bell rung for the beginning of round 1.

Hank stood there, inviting Czesch to deliver his first strike. Czesch could have easily hit him in a weak point between his ribs, but he oughted for a soft punch. He didn’t want the fight to end so soon, unbeknownst to Hank and the rest of the congregation, who thought he had hit with all his strength. Hank couldn’t help but laugh at such a pathetic attempt, as he knocked his fists together.

And then he started fighting. Czesch was managing to evade most of his most powerful hits, but some managed to click in, scraping his torso and arms. He was dealing with a heavyweight, a man whose hits were designed to cause as much pain and knockback as possible. He countered as soon as he could with soft punches, just to slowly wear Hank down, but he continued on giving both punches and kicks at an alarming speed, getting faster and faster. The Kid´s arms were taking an insane amount of punishment, and some hits had managed to connect to his head. He had managed to muffle their speed, but they still managed to wear him down as well.

The bell rang again, and Czesch was already a bloody mess. His face was red from some of the punches, blood pooling in his mouth and cheeks scraped badly,  while his arms had taken quite the punishment. He sat at his corner, a smile forming in his face as he took the mouthpiece out. Unfortunately, a smile like that wasn’t enough to calm Pete down.

“Czesch, what are you doing!? You told me you were planning on finishing him off quick!”

The Kid tapped him twice in the head with his scrapped fist.

“And I am doing just that. But I don´t want us to be pelted as we leave.”

“… Meaning?”

“If I kick his ass now, it´ll seem like a copout and we just won’t be able to get out of here alive. These people paid for a fight and they´ll pay more if we make this look like I´m keeping up with him. In round 3, I make a turnabout and people won’t have time to retract their bets. That way, we make sure the win counts.”

“You are taking a big risk doing that… I just hope you can make it work.”

“Don´t we all…”

He got up again and, to heat up a little bit, he put himself in his true fighting stance and delivered a few phantom jabs at the air. Hank relented for a bit, unsure as to whether he had seen a ghost or the kid was just playing tricks with him. It looked as if doing just that had struck a nerve in the pugilist, meaning that round 2 would be another test of endurance on the Kid´s part.

A few more minutes and he´d showcase his dancing skills.

On the corner of the building, up on a scaffolding, an old man cackled. He laughed as he hadn’t done so in years, taken in by a fight that shouldn’t have been that entertaining. His assistant, Giuseppe, was visibly concerned. The old man laughed whenever he was about to pull off something truly sinister, but this laugh was different. It was a joyous one, a merry one… nostalgic one?

“Errr, Signore? Are you alright?”

“Never been better! Say, Giuseppe, do you have any info on that bambino down there?”

“Only his name: Czes- Czesc- Chess? He is new around here. Apparently got into a scuffle with the Grazarins over at their establishment.”

“Hmmm… say, Giuseppe, have we done a bet in this match?”

“The usual to Hank, Signore.”

“Change it up. I want you to put that on the Kid´s tab.”

The assistant relented for a moment, scratching his unkempt beard with unease.

“Errrr, are you sure that is wise, Signore? That ragazzo is having a hard time.”

He felt his boss´s hand smacking him hard on the back, as if to reasurre him of his intentions.

“Patience, my dearest Giuseppe. Go do that and fetch me some bottled water, along with all the information you have of that boy.”

“At once, Signore.”

The old man had a grin on his face as he watched the ring. A small tear fell from his right eye, as his left one had stopped working so after an accident involving some Russians. He brushed it off to a side, too happy to let something so pesky get in the way.

“It seems you are going to have me relive history, huh, bambino?”

Round 2 started off just as the first one, Hank dominating every aspect of the fight, only this time he seemed desperate. His punches were faster, his jabs more precise and his kicks were inches away from connecting. Czesch was afraid that going to offense would thwart his strategy, but his defense was starting to collapse. Hank´s blows were finally connecting more and more, with Czesch trying to protect his head above everything else.

One kick finally made its mark, and it hit Czesch on the temple. He stumbled to a side, and people were finally expecting a knockout after such intense combat. Just as Czesch started his fall, he used his hand to quickly cartwheel back to a standing position, as he regained his balance and delivered a kick to get some distance between the two fighters. The crowd was left speechless and Hank couldn’t help but smirk in displeasure. The Kid clapped his hands together, getting the dirt and sweat off of them.

“This ain´t over yet, you fucking baboon!”

Some people were already praising Czesch´s decision to stay for a good fight, but no one was bothering to bet on him. They already knew Hank was the decisive winner and no secret weapon would manage to bring him down on the 3rd round. It would be madness to tempt fate by waiting for a miracle from someone who had only jumped around and took hits while delivering very little in terms of outward damage.

Hank went for another kick to the head, only this time the Kid managed to not only evade it, but boost it further by punching it in the same direction, causing the champion to turn in place while almost losing balance. Czesch moved in and delivered two more soft punches to his back before moving back, as Hank swayed his arm in an arch to finally catch the little pest before him.

The pugilist didn’t understand. The boy in front of him was a mass of inflamated skin and small cuts, his arms probably seconds away from dropping down flaccid and under enough pain to be seconds away from a knockout. He must have felt like he wasn’t even making a dent, since his rival on the ring was still seemed full of energy.  Hank most likely had difficult opponents before, but none that reached this infuriating level.

The 2nd round ended and Hank was only tired. Tired and frustrated, since the Kid had somehow managed to stay afloat and survive his onslaught. Czesch was still a bloody mess as he spat out part of the blood forming under the mouthpiece. It was a nice invention, something he had never thought of using during his training days. If only Bishop had given him one of those, he wouldn’t have tasted proper blood on one´s mouth at such a young age.

Round 3 started and Czesch raised his beat-up arm. The crowd waited, Hank´s breath stopped short, Pete was eating his nails out of exhasperation and Czesch… well, the Kid simply smiled. He had waited patiently, and now he wanted to make that last round a proper one.

“Music!!! Someone put an Irish tune to add a little fun!!”

Apparently, someone thought that was as good an idea as any, since the Kid would be biting the dust soon. The only man who had gone to change his bet was of the Italian mob, but people paid no heed to him. They were dead set on the fight, watching the young boy as he began sliding around to the music echoing across the building, his feet barely leaving the ground.

Irish Celtic music has something in it that makes feet bounce and dance around. For Dáz Prikhênka users, it is an invisible aid that further enhances one´s ability to move around, adding a layer of audible rhythm to play around. And now Czesch had started to dance, in and out of the flow of the celtic tunes, as he approached a Hank overcome with anger.

On the other person´s perspective, the pugilist couldn’t be helped but be taken aback. He knew those moves. He knew that new stance before his eyes. He had lost to that same stance to another cocky man a long time ago. But now he was stronger, taller and better prepared. He wouldn’t lose this time, as he paid close attention to the rhythm to finish the Kid off.

But Czesch knew he had already won. Hank had gone all out at the 2nd round and he definitely knew his moveset and his maximum acceleration. He could adapt to all of his moves now… and this time, Czesch was going full offensive, his body pushing through the weardown and pain to move as he commanded. Years upon years of battlefield experience and combat awareness had prepared him for so much.

The fight brought him back… he used to do that sort of thing with Iosef, training their melee skills on one another. One day the Kid would win, the next the Butcher would find a way to beat him, and so on. It had been one of the few instances where Czesch had admitted to enjoying fighting, and right then and there… he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of happiness and anguish as he skipped around the ring, forcing the champion to lose his posture.

Every time Hank punched, he did so at a bunch of air where Czesch had been, only to receive two powerful punches to the chest and the face. Those soft hits at the beginning of the fight had been meant to weaken him without Hank knowing about it. And now these new and more powerful hits were decimating him, knocking him back and forcing him to play riskier moves.

Still, Hank wouldn’t give up. He would stand there and give it his whole being, managing to land a couple more hits whenever Czesch risked an opening. It wasn’t quite a balanced fight, but his resilience certainly annoyed the Kid, who wanted the matter solved as quickly as possible and in that round alone. He had to finish up with a knockout, he knew that much. And he knew just the way to do so… with a trick from Bishop himself.

He evaded another of Hank´s jabs, only this time Czesch´s strike connected with Hank´s leg instead of his chest, causing him to fall to his knee for a second and, just as he tried to get up, Czesch propelled his leg at lightning speed to connect with Hank´s head. The kick was a powerful one, as he felt the bones crack under the pressure. Not as powerful as the one during the football match, but one that everyone in the audience managed to hear.

Hank fell into the floor, unconscious but still breathing. Everyone was left speechless, staring in awe at the impossible coming into form. Czesch would have grinned, were it not for the mouthpiece. That had been a good spar, much like the ones with Iosef, but without his tasteless and psychotic remarks at the end of each one. He very much enjoyed that silence, only interrupted by his heavy breathing and fast heartrate. It was a short-lived one, however, as the audience and the announcer both exploded at the same time, making him panic for a second.

“Knockout!! The winner and dethroner of the unbeatable Hank is… Czesch!!!”

His hand was raised, the crowd cheered and Pete started screaming like a football fanatic whose team had entered the Premier League.  He had controlled the crowd perfectly, and now collecting the money would prove easy. There was a tinge of satisfaction, as well as the dreaded sensation that his face would become public sooner than he´d have liked… the entire Underworld would talk for a while about “The boy who beat Hank”. He´d have to assess the situation after he got himself patched up, so he decided to leave it for later.

After all, they got his name right. That was as good a present as any to ease his mind.

Pete was ecstatic. Just saying happy would undermine how cheerful he had become after Czesch´s knockout. It had all happened in a flash of movement and agility that put most of the people who had mocked Czesch to shame. He was a natural fighter and had beat the undisputed champion of the underground kickboxing ring, leaving Hank on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. He wouldn’t be called champion, for it would take more fights for him to earn that title. But maybe, just maybe… Pete had with him a potential money making machine, one he´d have to milk to the best of his ability.

He´d concentrate on the future later. Right now, the present mattered to him most and he had to get the benefit of betting on the right horse. The house would get quite the margin, but Pete had paid enough to win a large quantity himself. Maybe then he could get the Italians out of his back, at least for the time-

“Well, well, if it isn´t “Silver-Tongue” Pete… remember us, ragazzo?”

All that cheerfulness, all the happy thoughts about the future? Gone down the drain with the words coming from Giuseppe´s mouth, the right hand man of the Italian mob in Harville. He came accompanied by two thugs, probably there to teach Pete a lesson. The man had a cocky smile on him, probably glad to come across the English boy so soon. Pete, on the other hand, tried his hardest to not appear intimidated.

“Giuseppe!! What a surprise, finding you here! Didn’t know you liked kickboxing.”

“I like other sports better myself.”

“And those are?”

“Debt collecting… especially when it comes to those that default, they are the most fun.”

Pete gulped, instantly regretting every decision he had ever made.

“Ah, right… look, I have Mr Galvo´s money right over there, now, if you just let me get to-“

“I´m afraid Il Signore Galvo is tired of your incompetence… there´s nothing he hates more than people that don´t fulfill their promises.”

The 3 men cracked their knuckles, an intimidatory tactic that worked very well with someone as young as Pete.

“C-Come on, Giuseppe! I practically have the money 10 meters away! If you could just let me go get it I-“

“As I said, Il Signore Galvo is tired of waiting, and the money is not in your hands… he will collect what is due right now…”

The two men started making his way over to Pete, who was trying his hardest to retain his cool. In reality, he was about to shit his pants. He had been so close, so close to getting rid of the debt. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come over to him in a flurry of hits.

“Hey!! What the hell is going on over there!?”

And so came the angel that had already saved him once that night. Czesch came over, his face still a smashed amalgam of red, inflated skin. Even with that handicap, Giuseppe´s men had seen what he had done to Hank, so they backed down upon seeing him.

“Czesch!! Am I glad to see you!”

“What is happening over here? Who is this guy?”

He pointed at the Italian, with Pete feeling a heart attack coming the longer the Kid kept on pointing.

“You can call me Giuseppe… Your friend Pete over here owes us money, and, since he doesn’t have it, we have to take measures.”

“Pete has enough money to pay your debt right at the betting office over there. He just has to present his ticket and-“

“That won´t do. He should have had it with him hours ago, and it´s nowhere in his posession. The debt has not been settled yet, and he must pay, simple as that.”

“Then let him compensate for damages the right way.”

Pete´s grin suddenly turned sour. Compensate? He meant paying more money? What did he mean by that?

“Czesch, I´m not sure that is such a good-“

“In any contract, fulfillment of the obligation at a later date than the one agreed upon shall leave, in this case, the lessor, with the option to ask for damage compensation, be it in monetary or other physical measures… at least, that´s how I´m told it goes.”

“And we were already going to compensate… with his legs, that is.”

“I´m afraid the compensation needs to be discussed upon, and the preferred method is monetary, it being the best one to quantify.”

The Kid got Giuseppe to chuckle. Pete wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

“I can quantify broken legs quite well with the damage done, I assure you.”

“Payment of the damages needs to be done on a lawful manner… unless you are not running a lawful business. Are you, Mr Giuseppe?”

Giuseppe managed to put a sarcastic grin. The cigarette in his mouth was thrown in front of Czesch´s feet as Giuseppe killed the remaining light with his foot. He got to smelling-distance of Czesch, putting face to face and blowing smoke onto the Kid´s face.

“You have balls, talking to me about law in a place without it… I could have you sleeping in the canals with two firm blocks of concrete on your feet. What do you think of that?”

Even in his damaged state, Czesch responded with a grin in exactly the same fashion. Pete thought it best to intervene.

“A bit cliché, but you´d have to knock me out cold first… and that would take a bit.”

“G-Guys, come on!! Czesch here has fought someone already! He doesn´t need any more-“

“I´m actually up for another one… what do you say?”

Giuseppe looked surprised for a moment, then began a deep laugh that ended with him clicking his tongue.

“Oh, the kid wants to do some more dancing… that´ll be fun…”

Giuseppe was about to order his men back, with Pete cowering at the prospect of getting involved in a fight with those beasts. Suddenly, a 4th man came over and whispered something in Giuseppe´s ear. He muttered a “What!?” among other expressions of surprise and lack of understanding. Czesch, who had been getting ready to fight again, found himself without any threats to engage, confused and disillusioned.

“What does that old man think he´s doing!? I have a fucking job to do!”

“Ummm, what is happening? Are we going to fight or what?”

“You, the fighting kid! Il Signore Galvo wishes to speak to you privately.”

“Huh? Who?”

“My boss… he has some interest in you, I don’t know why. Come with me, now.”

Czesch, having nothing to lose, shrugged and went forward with Giuseppe. Pete tried to follow with, but Giuseppe´s escort kept him in place. The Italian turned around, putting his scariest face yet.

“You… will wait here until your friend convinces Il Signore Galvo that there is still hope for you… and I certainly hope we get to do some of our work and he fails.”

In this instance, Pete´s life was literally on Czesch´s hands. And he didn’t have any power in that conversation at all, which meant the Kid would be all alone in a battle of wits against the boss of one of the most powerful criminal organizations in Harville.

He just hoped Czesch wouldn´t fuck up.

“So, how´s your boss?”

Giuseppe looked quite annoyed at his questions. Czesch was trying his hardest to get some information on this person who had an interest in him, but his assistant was being very good at his job by not even directly speaking with him. He started liking Giuseppe more and more, as he finally conceded in his own way.

“He has people killed for a living.”

“Ah, so just like any officer or Head of the Army in a Third World country?”

“Errrr, yeah… a bit like that… oddly specific, but just like that.”

“Neat.”

They walked a few more meters and up a scaffolding, leading to more corridors. They were in quite a big building, but the distances were ridiculous by most standards.

“Do you know what he wants with me?”

“Honestly, I don´t give a damn about what he wants with a vaffanculo like you.”

“If he wants to hire me, then I´m afraid I´ll have to pass.”

“You´ll do what Il Signore Galvo wants you to do… unless you want to change towns.”

“We´ll see about that.”

Giuseppe opened a door to a small receiving room. There were two sofas separated by an exquisitely decorated table. Czesch couldn’t help but think that the table was way too expensive in comparison with the rest of materials. On one of the sofas, a small, balding old man sat, smoking a cigar and enjoying a small brew of what looked like whisky. He had the bottle right next to him, and it was certainly whisky, a brand Buri liked quite a lot. The Kid thought it best to start with some light conversation.

“You have really nice taste for whisky, Mr Galvo.”

“This whisky tastes like cat´s piss… and I´m not a man that enjoys flattery.”

“It wasn´t flattery, I´m just remembering a friend that enjoys that brand… next time I talk to him, I´ll tell him what you just said. He´s bound to like it.”

Mr. Galvo had a small laugh. Giuseppe was clearly uncomfortable by the whole laughing business, looking to a side and all.

“Giuseppe, do you mind leaving me alone with the boy for a bit?”

The assistant looked shocked at first, shot a glance at the Kid´s direction and then looked desperately at his boss.

“B-But, Signore Galvo, you´d be left-“

“This boy has no intention of killing me… and, trust me, after what I have to say, he will have less of a reason to.”

“I implore you-“

“Giuseppe, calm down, get a walk, breathe some of the disgusting air around and come back. But wait at the door when you return. Let me have a private chat with him.

“S-Si, Signore Galvo.”

Giuseppe left the room and closed the door behind him. Czesch was left standing there, wondering whether he should take a seat or not, awkwardly tapping his face to get a feel for it again.

“Czesch… Czesch… a weird name, don’t you think?”

His muttering caught him off-guard, as he tried to come up with an appropriate answer. The old mob boss looked deep in thought, as if he kept forgetting he had a guest in front of him.

“Always thought of it that way, Mr Galvo, but babies can´t really have a say in that.”

“Vero…Where are my manners? I didn’t notice you were standing! Take a seat, come on!”

Czesch sat in the sofa in front of Galvo, surprised by his sudden hospitality. He noticed they were quite comfy, which their appearance didn´t completely showcase. Nice sense of taste from the Italian.

“Now, Czesch… do you want anything to drink? A beverage?”

“Hmmm… I would need some ice for this inflammation. It stings a bit, you know.”

He had applied some beforehand, but the ruckus Pete had gotten himself into had stopped that treatment from coming together. At least Don Galvo seemed to understand.

“Ah, of course! There is ice in that small fridge in the corner, take as much as you want from it! I´d do so myself, but, as you can see, I´m quite old and moving around is a bit of a pain.”

“Yeah, don´t worry, I´ll fetch it myself…”

Czesch got up and to the fridge, opening its door to see a huge amount of alcoholic beverages and, at the end, a bag of ice he could use. He grabbed that and a bottle of vodka he would definitely need for a cut he had made to himself during that last strike. With no pure alcohol, it was the best thing he had.

He got back to the sofa, applying the vodka and ice where they needed applying. It wouldn’t make the swellings dissapear, but it was far better than letting the bruises be. The old man chuckled at that sudden burst of ingenuity.

“I see you are the sort of person that uses vodka for that other “practical” purpose. No better disinfectant out there, apart from the medical treated one.”

“I drink it only when I´m desperate… or to sing.”

“And only desperate people drink vodka… those damn Russians, desperate bunch…”

Seeing him grumble off-topic almost brought a smile to the Kid´s face. It was as if he was talking to one of the old men they often saw in villages back in the war, often complaining and telling stories to entertain them whenever they weren’t fighting or training.

“Yeah, they seem that way in these parts, don´t they?”

“Your little incident with the Grazarin kid was noteworthy, to say the least. They say you broke his wrist.”

His attempted smile reverted the moment he heard that, now becoming aware that he had eyes on him from that incident up to that point.

“… Mr Galvo, either you have very good informants… or I´m really that lousy at remaining incognito.”

“A mix of both, ragazzo. It´s always a mix of both that leads to success… Take vodka for example. You take it in shots, old men may like that, but youngsters can´t stand it. Mix it up with lemon soda or lime juice… Perfetto! You have a drink you can sell at the price of the bottle and it costs you less because half of it is a few pennies worth. You just have to love how economics work!”

“That´s an interesting business strategy.”

“And we´ve been fucking with that strategy for decades now. The Russians bring in their vodka, but only three quarters of it shows up… a mystery, huh? I have enough vodka reserves to set alight all the canals in the city… even the empty ones, mind you!”

The Kid gave it some thought… and the more he saw the plan panning out, the more he liked it, even though it wasn’t in any way related to him.

“… Yeah, cut off their income and they are bound to take less risks in venture capital. Good thinking on your part, Mr Galvo. Wouldn’t have expected the mob to employ such tactics.”

“Well, you learn things from the right people and it ends up helping you in life… but enough about Russians, that subject always gives me a headache… let´s talk about you, Czesch.”

“Me?”

He was sensing it. The old man was going to ask him about fighting for him in the underground ring, and he´d have to deny it. At the moment, he was thinking about the best way of doing it without waking up the demon inside that seemingly defenceless man.

“Say, Czesch… have you ever been to Harville before?”

“I don´t think I can- Wait, what?”

The question had definitely caught him off-guard more so than his ramblings. What did have to do with anything?

“Is this your first stay in Harville? Because you were clearly not here a couple of months ago. With your resumé… we would have surely noticed.”

“I… yeah, I arrived almost a month ago.”

“I imagined as much… and, due to your name, you must hail from the Czech Republic.”

“…Yes.”

He hadn´t used the word Czechia, calling the country by its original name. Was this man aware of his origin? What more did he know? What was this all in service for?

“I imagined as much… do you recognize this song?”

He started muttering a song from memory alone, so he was butchering the lyrics. Czesch didn’t recognize anything other than garbled Eastern European-sounding words, but the melody… the melody was strikingly familiar. It was almost as if he had heard it as a kid… something his mother had- No way… he couldn’t…how did he-?

“… Mr Galvo, did you know my mother?”

The old man grinned at that, seeing the Kid´s shocked expression. It seemed he had heard the right question being uttered.

“That was the creed of the Czech section of the Assassin´s Syndicate. They used to recite it time and time again, so much so we told the bastards that if they sung it again we´d tie them to a car and throw them down the highway at top speed. You could have gone with that… but you remembered your mother sang that as a lullaby when you were little. She never had any lullabies sung to her, and that was the closest thing she knew… and I knew she wouldn’t sing you anything else…”

“I can´t believe you… you really knew my mother? Lenna?”

“I knew her quite well, but I knew your father better, and he knew me like the back of his hand… Jackie, that bastard…the liver in that monster was something else, I tell you! Always enduring far worse things than lead!”

“My dad? You drank with-“

Then everything clicked. A memory came through like a flash of inspiration, like a strike of lightning descending upon the ground, or a bullet being launched from a rifle. The puzzle of why he was speaking with that man was complete, as Czesch finally realized who the old man in front of him really was, along with the resurgence of an enigma buried deep in his mind finally finding its answer.

“… Uncle Teo!?”

Teodoro Galvo,  Il Padrino of the Italian mob in Harville, a man who was renowned to only smile before a massacre, a murderous lunatic and mastermind… became truly overjoyed after years of bitterness by finally meeting his nephew. He even got up to hug him and kiss him in the cheeks, just like true family. He sat down back again, letting Czesch grasp the fact that he had just met his “uncle”.

“Bambino, I never thought I´d live to see this day!! Look at you… actually, scratch that, you are a complete mess! I´ll talk with Hank when he wakes up, tell him to control himself a little more!”

“I´m… I didn’t know you were in Harville! Dad never told me-“

“That truant Jack never told you he worked here because he knew you´d follow in my footsteps! And he probably didn’t want to give you any ideas, this line of work was always too exciting for a spoilsport like him!”

“I see… so, my dad came from here…I wonder why he never even mentioned this place.”

“His history with the town was quite hit or miss, but his name still holds its weight if you say it in the right spots! And now you came back where it all started! Talk about il destino taking a dump on common sense, hahahaha!!”

Things were coming full circle. A Harrow had been born and lived in Harville, another came in to fill the void the last one left. It was too ironic to not take notice, but the Kid was too surprised to do so. Not a million years would he have forseen such an event taking place.

“When I saw you fight down there, it reminded me so much of Jack that I had to check in for myself… and what do you know!! It was you all along!”

Czesch couldn’t fathom how happy Teodoro was feeling at the moment, but he also felt a little happier himself. He had thought his entire family had been killed, but Uncle Teo always remained there in the distance, as one of his father´s stories. He mentioned Teo scarcely, and always with respect and love for the man. Czesch had wanted to meet him, but Jack had always come up with some new training for him. And, finally, the Uncle Teo from his childhood was there… in the form of an old and balding Italian mobster. He had expected as much.

“Well, enough about me… come on, tell me! What of Jack, huh!? And Lenna!? How is the “Deadly Couple” doing?”

His happy demeanor changed instantly. Was… he really oblivious to what had happened?

“Wait… you don´t know?”

“Huh? Know what?”

Czesch gulped before telling the tragic tale, of how they got killed in front of him as a kid. That was not going to sit well with Teo, he knew that much when-

“Aaahh, I should have figured that out already, but you are here!! Which means they did what they set out to do, hahahahaha!! Jackie, you always had your way in the end, vaffanculo!!”

The old mob boss was laughing, which sat quite well with the Kid. He was probably so used to people dying that it didn’t bother him as much as it would have to others. The joy of seeing someone alive clearly trumped any death on his book. His choice of words was probably the one thing that irked Czesch.

“Errr, what? What do you mean by “set out to do”?”

“Hold on, why do you think those two lovebirds ran off to her homeland?”

“Errrr… t-to run away from Russians? That´s all I-“

“To keep you alive, ignorante! That was the sole reason they left. Jack and Lenna both knew how to fight and survive in this city, but you? You´d be in the crosshairs of a lot of mean figli di puttana, so they left to keep you safe.”

Deep down, he knew that “Russians” had never been a satisfactory answer to that question. He had the suspicion that their removal from the UK had something to do with him, but he never really got the proper feedback to support that thought. Now he was being told that his theory had been right all along…

“Oh… I… I figured out as much, but… wow, now I feel like shit…”

“It wasn’t your fault, bambino. No one sees war coming until it´s too late to leave.”

“Yeah… that´s true.”

Then something popped up Czesch´s head. An issue regarding family ties that required some clearing up… well,  a couple issues…

“Uncle Teo… I´m not your biological nephew, right? You made Jack your brother of sorts?”

“That´s right! He helped me make the impossible happen and I made his life an interesting one. The mix was the best possible combination ever… even better than a Bloody Mary!”

“Right… did my dad owe you anything?”

“Huh? What sort of question is that?”

“Usually, when a father dies, the son takes heritage of all his possessions, including all liabilitites. I was wondering if I-“

“Mwahahahahhahaha! Don´t spout nonsense like that, I´m going to piss myself! If anyone owes anything, it´s me who has to owe up to all of your father´s work! It´s the main reason why we are still strong in here!”

“Oh, that´s… reassuring.”

He would have done his hardest to pay any debts, but hearing that he didn’t have any managed to help him relax. What did help him at all was Teo´s next question, since it was done in a serious tone that didn’t fit the conversation they were having.

“Say, I´ve heard you have been going around with “Silver Tongue” Pete? Is that true?”

“Errr, yeah, it is.”

“That boy is bad news all around, tiny little schemer that one... I know it may sound weird coming from a mobster, but don´t hang out too much with him. I smell future trouble with that boy.”

“Noted… he was going to pay up his debt with you, but Giuseppe stopped him from getting the money.”

“So that´s why you fought against Hank? To wipe a debt that wasn´t yours!?”

“When you put it like that… yeah, it was exactly because of that…”

Teo laughed his ass off as Czesch wondered whether it had been a good idea to meet his uncle after all. The man seemed affable… but he was still a mob leader through and through.

“If history keeps repeating itself like this, I´ll have to buy myself a fucking camera to get everything in order!! Sure, sure, I´ll let Pete pay what he owned. Hadnt it been for his fuckup, I doubt I would have met you!”

“True enough… so, does this mean I work for you now? N-Not that it wouldn’t be great! It´s just that… I, errr…”

 “Huh? Don´t you have a job already, “Mr… Czesch Travaly, security contractor”, was it?”

Czesch got up from his seat instinctively, knowing fully well that his identity was being displayed on a platter right in front of him. He expected his determined expression to intimidate his uncle… but that had been wish-fullfillment that would never be.

“Hehehe, I´m loving that fire in your eyes! Don´t worry, I was just curious about what you´d done, so I did a little background check with my contacts, got the report just now… that train incident a few weeks back, that was you as well, wasn´t it?”

“… Uncle Teo, this is top secret stuff so, please, try to-“

“Keep my mouth shut about it? Already done! Don´t worry about me, bambino, your secret is well kept! Figured with your history of violence you wanted a little peace and quiet, but you could have chosen a better town than Harville for that!”

“It´s a gradual thing, I… can´t really change out of the blue.”

“I understand, I understand… well, if you need me, come find me around here. It´s the Trattoria da Napoli, a few blocks away from this hellhole. A young man such as yourself won´t need help finding it, right? That way, we can talk and revisit the golden days!”

“Right… a phone number would also be nice.”

“Oh, that´s a problem. I usually switch up phones to avoid certain “issues” with the forces of order. Usually we solve each other´s problems, but there are often grey areas that we cant agree upon.”

That piqued the Kid´s interest. A criminal organization helping the police? That was something new.

“Wait, you work with the police? Huh, that´s a weird way to put it.”

“But we do! You see, the police can´t tell people what clothes to dress, what food to eat, which places to go… that´s out of their reach and there´s nothing them or the government can do about it and not get called fascist. However, we provide that essential service, and as long as we do a good job about it, we don’t get any trouble in our part of town… because those bastards are relentless when you piss them off.”

“Hmmm… I never saw it that way.”

“It´s a new idea we are playing around with to keep things in control. It´s getting harder and harder with the Russians becoming bolder and the Armenians going completely crazy over on their side… then again, it could be much worse.”

“Ok… Oh, right, you´ll want my number to keep in contact. You may have a problem with it, but I don’t plan on changing mine for a while.”

“No need.”

“Huh? Wait, did you-!?”

“Hahaha, I told you! Contacts are the best thing a man can have!”

“You are just as crazy and scary as he put it… glad to be able to finally meet you, Uncle.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Bambino mio. Have fun with your friend, and keep an eye out on him before he becomes too big headed!! That´s killed way too many people in this damn town!”

Czesch hugged his uncle for a second time before leaving. An odd feeling took over, of him still having a family of sorts after all that time. He couldn’t piece it together, but he felt like he had found something bigger than a powerful ally… a fallback point in case everything else burned to ash.

As he closed the door behind him, Giuseppe came up to him with an apologetic face.

“Look, I… didn’t know you were related to the Signore… I apologize for being so brusque with you.”

“No need. I didn´t even know it myself until he came forward with it!”

“We have already allowed your friend to get his money… it´s up to you whether he pays or not.”

“Huh? Wasn´t the deal that he had to pay?”

“… The way Il Signore Galvo put it, it´s up to you…”

Czesch pondered both about his relationship with Pete, as well as his situation with Galvo and the overall nature of the lease. Finally, he came to a sound decision.

“Make him pay the quantity agreed. Then everyone´s happy.”

Giuseppe looked surprised for a moment, then immediately started giggling with evil intent.

“He won´t be. You are making him lose money.”

“He was going to lose it anyways. Besides, that´s a lesson learned: If you need money, never ask from the mob unless you know you can pay it back.”

“Smart lesson, that one… will I be seeing you around, Signore Travaly? Or should I say, Harrow?"

“Just call me Czesch. That one´s good enough.”

The Italian sighed in relief, apparently getting a weight out of his chest.

“Thank god, because calling the men up top Signore all day is exhausting!”

“Tell me about it… the amount of people I have to refer to as “Ma´am” is absurd.”

“We can´t get away from our bosses, can we?”

“I don´t know about you, but I´d rather keep my head clear of any oncoming lead.”

They both had a laugh and Czesch started to get a better feel for Giuseppe. He was a smart guy, one that could hold his own in a hostile world. He´d need to be careful to make friends with him, in case things got crazy. It was never a bad idea to have support, even at times of relative peace.

He finally got out of the seemingly abandoned facility where they had done the fight, now empty of all life for the end of the festivities. He met up with Pete, who was waiting for him outside the spot, keeping a grin that assured Czesch of Teodoro´s words of caution about him. There was something else besides the feeling of still being alive… there was an ambitious gleam, one that the Kid didn’t like one bit.

“Czesch!! Thank you, thank you so much!! For everything, I mean… Fuck me, that was close!”

“I´m sure it was… come on, let´s go.”

“How did you convince Mr Galvo from letting me pay?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, not wanting to look at Pete in the eye for that.

“… It´s complicated, don´t really want to talk about it.”

“I mean, Annie told me you had some ties to some criminals, but this is-“

“I´m sorry, she said what!?”

Annie had told Pete… sure, Czesch had told her about his criminal ties, but he did so considering that Annie promised not to tell anyone and on his belief that she was trustworthy enough. And she had just shared that information with Pete of all people. He was a bit pissed… quite so, actually, since he was still a bit heated up from the fighting. Had it been anyone else…

“Look, Pete, I don’t know what she told you, but-“

The leader of the Bloody Bastards cut him short, finally putting two and two together.

“No way!! You are related to Galvo!! Holy shit, this is grand, this is just amazing!”

“Pete, calm down and listen to me! I don´t-“

“Now we can have support from the Italians! We can turn the gang into a proper organization and start doing some of our own work around town, earning proper cash and cleaning the streets!”

The Kid was finally seeing Pete´s intentions… and they were as ambitious as they were delusional. Cleaning the streets? What sort of twisted joke was that? You can´t clean garbage if you are garbage yourself, that´s just pretentiousness. He kept on laughing, while Czesch just grew even angrier by the second.

“For the love of god, Pete, just shut up and-“

“We are going to need more people. Then, we take on the Armenians and Russians, prove ourselves… then we get a nice slice of town, regulate it while living the good life and-“

“Pete, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN!”

He had managed to finally get Pete´s attention by grabbing him from the shirt´s collar and slamming him against a brick wall. Pete came down to Earth, alarmed by Czesch´s sudden burst.

“Dude, calm down, you are getting all-“

“I don´t know what Annie told you, but I have no fucking relation with these mobsters!! If my parents did, so be it, but I don’t want anything to do with a bunch of people who make a living through extortion, coertion and trafficking! I´m not going to tempt fate and follow in on their fuckups, so get those bloody ideas out of your head and leave me out of whatever fucking plans you have!”

Czesch let Pete go and walked a distance away from him, trying to stop himself from landing a proper hit on him. He was on fire, not just from the previous fight, but from all the shit he had to go through till that point. It wasn’t true that he had no relation with Teodoro, but he didn’t want that flimsy connection to push him onto a path he hadn’t chosen himself. He was trying to be better at life, and aiming so low would prove that he wouldn’t be doing a good job at it.

“Man, you have some fucking issues…”

“Oh, I´m the one with the bloody issues here!?!? Apparently, blowing away the mob´s money in their face is the action of a very reasonable man!”

“It´s… not that way…”

“It is that fucking way!! Look Pete, I like you, you are a good pal, but you and your scheming need to stay away from me, OK!? I want no more of this fucking business.”

“Czesch! I´m trying to-“

Czesch was already gone.  He wanted to hear none of it, so irate that he was. He had been through enough delusional leaders for a lifetime, all brazen fools throwing people into a grinder to advance their own goals. The only one he respected to a point had been Sabi, since she at least threw her life on the line as well and cared deeply for all  the members of the Pack. From what little the Kid knew of Pete, it was clear that the leader of the Bloody Bastards wasn’t on Sabi´s level… much to the contrary.

He walked through the mostly empty streets, a dark starless sky being his only company as he broke into a job. He was heading home… but not quite his own.

He had a person to visit before he did.

Annie got a knock on the door late at night. That could only mean trouble and she knew it… and that night she didn’t want any trouble. She felt like shit after the news hit and she didn’t want any contact, even if it wasn’t a murderous lunatic with a fire axe trying to brighten up her day.

Looking at the peephole, she saw Czesch on the door. Not a murderous lunatic, but close enough. She let him in, only for him to barge into the living room as quickly as he had arrived. She slowly closed the door behind her, sighing as she collected her thoughts.

“… I was going to say “Come in”, but you already went ahead and-“

“You think this is funny, Annie?”

“Well… that rhyme you just made was. Funny… Annie… yeah, 2 AM humor is not my specialty.”

“I tell you “Don´t tell anyone about my past, pretty please”… What do you do? You tell fucking Pete of all people!!”

“Well, he is my boyfriend, what did you expect? The subject came up, thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to know.”

“Hurt for him to-!? Your boyfriend is a delusional fool who´ll get us all killed at some point, that´s my problem right now! And you just confirmed his suspicions and now he wants to go up the food chain!”

He looked quite mad, and the only time she had seen him that way had been… she gulped, massaging her face for a moment to gather up a proper response.

“Look, I don’t know what you are talking about right now, but whatever issue you have with Pete is not my-“

“Of course it´s your problem as well! I don’t go telling people about my life so that it gets published at every corner! The last thing I need is for that daft bastard to get me down the rabbit hole!”

“Alright, enough insulting him, alright?  At least he doesn’t enter into catatonic states after seeing laundry or going to the Post Office! Don´t go pinning medals just because you think you are better than him!”

“At least I owe up to what I do and bear the consequences!”

“At least he doesn´t have me drag his sorry ass around town because of a cold!”

“At least I don´t hide me owing money to the mob!!”

“At least- Wait… what was that?”

“Your dear boyfriend has spent the last 3 months using money lent by the mob on every single event you´ve had and on his own expenses. I just saved his ass tonight from getting his legs shattered”

She couldn’t believe it at first, her eyes widening and mouth agape. Why hadn’t he told her? Did that mean that…?

“Why didn´t he… Oh,fuck, I should have seen this one coming…”

“And he just came out and said “Hey, Czesch, since you have ties to the Italian mob, let´s make our gang get more powerful and fight in street battles against Armenians!”… Because that´s definitely what I signed up for when I got into this fucking gang, more bloody fighting!!”

Talk about fighting got Annie to notice the person in front of him in a proper manner. He was red, not from fury, but from someone elses.

“… Your face… what happened to it?”

“This is what I get for helping out Pete… a kickboxing match and half the underworld now knowing my face…”

“Let me… let me check it out, I have some anti-inflammatory in the cabinet.”

“Please do… I can hardly feel it…”

She rushed to the bathroom, leaving a now cooled off Czesch to think about his actions in more detail. What was he hoping to achieve by shouting at Annie? For her to not reveal his life as fast? How much had he really told her? Was it even a reason to get mad at her if he had come out with the theme out of the blue? He felt like a complete asshole, especially since he hadn’t waited around and had confronted her late at night. He had a lot of things in his mind, he had to take a step back and remain rational.

Annie came back, carrying a weird-looking bottle with some white cream inside.

“Try to keep your face as still as possible. This should make it feel better…”

“Thanks…”

Annie started dispersing the cream around Czesch´s face. It felt like it was cleaning his face more than anything, but it felt refreshing nonetheless.

“So, this is Pete´s fault then?”

“Errr, yeah… Sorry for shouting at you, I-“

“It´s alright, It´s my fault for telling Pete and giving him weird ideas. You wouldn’t be in this shape if I hadn´t…”

It was his turn to feel guilt, her sorrowful glance making him feel a sort of regret that he was all to familiar with. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to change the topic.

“Hmmm… Annie?”

“Yeah?”

“I… met my uncle today. My…my adoptive one, that is.”

“… Vivi´s brother?”

“No! Well, I met that one already and he´s more of a drinking partner than anything, but I meant another adoptive uncle… by my father´s side.”

She looked surprised for a moment, dropping her murky thoughts to a side.

“Wait, your father? Don´t tell me he lived here in Harville?”

“Yup… that he did.”

“Huh, what a coincidence.”

“Problem with my uncle is, he´s the leader of the Italians out in Butcher Square.”

“I can see that going awry… and why Pete would try to reign you in.”

“As much as I´m happy about finally meeting him in person, I… I want nothing to do with that sort of life. I´m through enough violence as is just by being in this city, and escalating it to mob warfare just doesn’t seem like the next logical step. That´s why I can´t help Pete…”

He was lying, of course. It wasn’t a matter of violence at all, it was simply job allocation in its simplest sense. Most people could try and handle 2 jobs at the same time, but Czesch was already trying to manage a lot. Adding illegal activities to it would be detrimental to his effectiveness. Annie tapped him twice in the shoulder, as if sharing that feeling.

“Well, not wanting to follow in your father´s footsteps is a normal thought… Take me and my old man. He wants me to study business, keep the family company going. You know what? Sod off business, that whole mess gives me the creeps.”

“I guess it´s a teenager thing, isn’t it?”

“Totally… you should start feeling better in a bit… let me check your arms now.”

Czesch had almost forgotten that his arms had taken quite the punishment as well. Annie inspected them, an even more worried look forming in her face. They had taken most of the damage during the fight, and the Kid hadn’t felt them only because the combat high was still in effect. It was only then that he began feeling them burning.

“Jesus, the guy must have been a complete savage.”

“If only he were just that…”

“I have some bandages you can use, I´ll bring them-“

“Oh, no need!! I´ve already got some home, I´ll do it myself when I get there.”

“O-Ok then…”

They both sat in Annie´s little flat, wondering what else to say. Czesch had started out thundering and lashing out at her, but now he felt that doing so had achieved absolutely nothing of worth. The point of secrets is that you tell no one, and Czesch was throwing them at Annie like it was candy or, in her case, alcohol… and now he noticed he had confided in her yet again! He wondered then how she would-

She was crying. Annie was softly sobbing, a low and almost imperceptible sound that almost went over Czesch´s ears. Only by looking directly at her could he see her reddened eyes and tired expression. It was his first time seeing her like that, and it shocked him to the core.

“Annie, are you-“

She stopped him, putting a hand between the two.

“I´m fine… I´m fine, it´s just a… temporary thing… don´t worry, I´m good…”

“Just saying “I´m fine” doesn’t immediately make everything better, what happened?”

“Y-You don´t need to listen to my shit, I don´t want to- Just go already… leave me alone, I have to think.“

He tightened his fists, aware of his growing concern for her. The whole mad rush from before seemed menial in comparison with the problem in front of him and he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Annie, I´ve told you a lot about my problems already… if… if there´s anyone that can hear you out when you are having a hard time, then… hell, I might be one of the better fits… and I can´t just leave you like this after my rampage, just tell me.”

“… Fuck me, you had to come now of all times… you really are an idiot…”

Annie bit her lip, wondering whether to laugh about how pathetic this whole ordeal was or to cry some more.

“My… my mother´s in the hospital… nothing too worrying, just… an illness she had just sprouted back up.”

“Shit, I´m… sorry to hear that… You two are close, right?”

“What makes you ask that? She IS my mother after all. What would give you the idea we aren’t?”

He scratched the back of his neck, now understanding the sensitive nature of the question.

“The fact you live alone… either you don´t like your father or the issue is with her. Those are the most likely reasons.”

She sighed, slumping down on her sofa, all the while the Kid remained upright.

“She and I, we… I never got along with her. I don´t really understand why, I never saw her as my mom, so I used to despise her… I still do. She was cold, distant with me, and I always saw other boys and girls with their mothers, having fun and getting picked up by them…”

“… You wanted a real mom.”

“I wanted to feel loved by her, like dad did… and now she´s on the ropes and I… I don’t know what to think anymore… and it´s all thanks to you, dumbass…”

It was as if Czesch had tried putting two and two together… and he had come up with a 7 all of a sudden.

“Huh? I am the one to blame here? Blame whatever put your mother in the hospital, not me!”

“That´s not the point… before, I would have just shrugged it off, let her be with her own problems, but… but then I remembered.”

“… What exactly?”

“Remembered that you lost yours… that you didn’t get to tell her that she was your favourite.”

She stopped talking and looked down at the ground. Czesch took a seat next to her, starting to understand how her mind was connecting all those dots together.

“You have told me time and time again how it devastated you, and… god´s sake, you lost her when you were 8! You barely had time to know her well, and I´m 16, don´t know shit about her and she´ll probably die before I have the chance to know her better!! I haven’t even given her a chance, for crying out loud!”

“Annie, calm down…”

“At least I´m sure you knew your mother loved you, right? I don´t even know that much… I may never…”

That question… it definitely forced the Kid to rethink an idea that had been bothering him for a long while. Had Lenna really loved him?

“… I guess she did… in her own way.”

“You guess? What kind of half-arsed answer is that?”

He couldn’t really put his finger on it, but he couldn’t really use the word “love” for his childhood training regime. He had to use a word that was more true to form, one that showed what really went down those 8 first years of his life.

“She… cared about me. And that´s the best way I can put it.”

“You don´t know if she loved you or not?... Do you think most mothers act that way at some point?”

“OK, let´s not compare mothers here, because mine was definitely not in the average.”

“Oh, right… assassin and all that… wait, then how did she end up with your dad?”

“Long story short, they had a bunch of contracts together and started dating… at least, that´s the way they always described it. Will have to ask Teo about it at some point.”

“You have to be shitting me. They got in love by killing people? That´s a stretch!”

“I´m not sure, but… I can´t say for certain if it was love or not… at least in my mother´s case.”

“How come?”

“She was taught from birth on how to kill people, not on how to love someone. She was raised with no family or friends, only as a tool to be used by others… and she broke that shackle and became someone else, true, but how you are raised counts by quite a lot.”

“W-Well, I still think parents have it in them to love their children… she gave birth to you, after all. You came from her, so that must count for- Oh…”

“Yeah… it must count for something, right?”

They talked on through the night, Czesch finally convincing her that she had to at least attempt to open up to her and make amends for lost time, seeing that time was a thing they still had in their hands. They hugged for a second to let Annie vent out frustration ,but she kept refusing to let go.

“Annie, we have class tomorrow.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry…”

She broke the hug, not sobbing or tearing up. Seeing his work done there, the Kid got up and headed towards the door… immediately remembering the way that he had entered the apartment.

“Errr, sorry for barging in so late at night… and during your tantrum… a complete dick move on my part.”

He scratched the back of his neck, still feeling embarrassed about it. Annie responded with a cocky grin and a chuckle.

“I expected as much from an idiot like you… thanks for showing up anyways.”

“Good night, A.”

“Good night, C.”

He closed the door behind him, and this time the words he had said beforehand came back to haunt him in a different way.

Would a man like him ever understand love?

.A������

Next Chapter: Chapter VI: Sax Problems and the Joys of Being a Diplomat of the Opposition