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"This is David. I'm already on my way to school. Breakfast was good, don't worry about me. Please take care of yourself."
David sat on the floor by the door, pulling on his sneakers as he sent the message to his mother. He sat there for a long moment, staring blankly at the wall, before patting his cheeks to snap out of it. He stood up, pushed open the heavy door, and prepared to face the slow, miserable trek to school.
He was in no hurry. No matter how hard he tried, he never quite fit into the polished, arrogant circles at the Academy. Gloria's earnest lecture from the night before hadn't changed reality—he was still the scholarship kid from the slums, the easy target for every corporate scion with a chip on their shoulder.
But the moment he stepped into the hallway, he heard voices—loud, boisterous, and entirely out of place for a Tuesday morning in a residential skyscraper.
"Which room did Jax snag? He said H4, but he's ghosting my pings. Kid still asleep?"
"Didn't Sasha give you the floor number?"
"No, she just said she was going for a ride and went dark. I told you, Maine, leaving those two alone was a bad move. The kid's got eyes for her!"
"Shut up, Pilar!"
David froze. Jax? Sasha? The names of his new neighbors. He looked up and felt his heart skip a beat.
Standing by apartment 602 was a group of people he would normally cross the street to avoid. At the center was a mountain of a man, over two meters tall with white punk hair and a body like a black bear. He was so "wide" that other residents on the floor were already scurrying past with their heads down, eyes glued to the floor.
The rest of the group looked just as lethal. A muscular woman who looked like she could bench-press a tank; a tall, slender woman in a red trench coat and a metallic mask, leaning against the wall and smoking with a detached air; and a gaunt man with massive, industrial-grade gorilla arms that looked heavy enough to snap his spine.
And then there was the girl. Short, with neon-green hair, wearing an oversized black coat and swinging a submachine gun like a toy, making "doo-doo-doo" sounds under her breath.
David's first instinct was to slam the door and hide, but a voice boomed through the hall before he could move.
"Hey, kid!"
Maine pulled his sunglasses down, eyeing the boy in the Arasaka Academy uniform. He looked genuinely confused. Why would a corporate golden boy be living in a hole like this?
"Ah… are you talking to me?" David stammered, his pulse hammering in his ears.
"Yeah, you." Maine waved him over, a predatory but not unkind smile on his lips. "Don't look so panicked. If you're a man, come here. I've got a question."
David took a deep breath and walked forward. As he drew closer, the sheer physical pressure of the group made his palms sweat. Standing next to Maine, he felt like he was standing next to a skyscraper.
"What's your handle?" Maine asked.
"David…"
"Alright, Maine, quit scaring the student," Dorio interrupted, patting Maine's shoulder. She looked at David, offering what she probably thought was a friendly smile, though it looked more like a predator evaluating a snack. "Going to school, David?"
"Yes…"
"Since you live here, maybe you can help us. An Asian guy moved in yesterday. Tall, black hair, looks a few years older than you. Know which unit he's in?"
David's mind raced. He thought of Jax's calm face and the meat rolls his mother had made. He shook his head quickly, his voice a pitch higher than usual. "I don't know. I got home really late yesterday. We don't really talk to neighbors here."
He tried to look as small and insignificant as possible. He wasn't sure why he was lying—maybe it was self-preservation, or maybe a strange sense of loyalty to the guy who hadn't looked at him with pity.
He didn't notice the look of amusement that crossed Maine's face, or the way Pilar tilted his head, watching him through his shades. Nice try, kid, Maine thought. He'd lived on the streets too long to be fooled by a teenager's bad poker face.
But before David could scramble away, the door to 603 clicked open.
Jax stepped out, blinking at the small army gathered in the hall. He saw the mercs, then his eyes landed on David, who looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.
"David?" Jax called out.
The silence that followed was heavy. David's sweat turned cold as he felt Maine's gaze burn into the side of his head.
"You little rat…" Maine's massive hand reached out.
David flinched, raising his arms to protect his face, but the blow never came. Instead, the heavy hand landed on his head, ruffling his hair with enough force to nearly knock him over.
"Good kid," Maine grunted, a note of genuine respect in his voice. He turned to Jax. "We're burning daylight, Jax. Let's move."
"Sasha said seven. It's barely past six," Jax noted, checking his internal clock.
"Time is eddies, buddy. Sooner we bag the job, the sooner we hit the bar. Right?" Maine laughed.
Jax nodded, his gaze lingering on the woman in the red coat. Kiwi. The crew was filling out. He turned back to David, who was staring at the group with a mixture of terror and awe.
"Good morning, David," Jax said gently.
David looked at the intimidating crew—real-deal mercenaries—circling around Jax as if he belonged. "Good morning, Jax… Big Brother."
Jax's expression flickered. Big Brother? If only this kid knew that in a few years, he'd be the one making legends look like amateurs.
"Going to school?" Jax asked.
"Yeah."
"Then get going. Don't waste time." Jax's eyes flashed a brief, digital yellow.
David's neuro-link chimed. He looked at Jax in surprise.
"That's my number," Jax said. "If things ever get sideways, or you just need a hand… call me."
"Okay… Thanks!" David nodded vigorously.
He didn't remember the walk to the elevator. His mind was a chaotic swirl of adrenaline. Panic and fear were being crowded out by a strange, electric excitement. He looked at the new contact in his list and took a shaky breath.
Mom, you were right, he thought, squinting as he stepped out into the morning sun. You told me to talk to him.
A strange current of energy buzzed from his spine to his brain. For the first time in years, his life didn't feel like a dead-end street. It felt like a beginning.
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