Chapter Text
"Get off me!" You yell as you push off a handsy customer. Pricks like these always expect to get a hit without paying. It's always "I'll pay you next time," "I owe you," or "I forgot my wallet." Yet they never offer to pay in advance or a small tip.
The man stumbled back, bumping into the concrete wall of the wide but still narrow alley. He hung his head and scratched his head, full of scruffy and messy hair. Stiff from all the dirt that's been on there for weeks or months, who knows. He slightly tilted his head up, where you could barely see his eyes below his eyebrows, looking at you with a dark shadow over his face.
It was a dark, wet, humid, and uncomfortable alley. And the way this man was looking at you made you more uncomfortable. You didn't want him to be angry with you, but what else were you supposed to do when he was the one who reached out to grab your arm?
The man now looked at you, full face up, with his thick brows furrowed and his upper lip twisted up.
"Heyyyyy, Samuel- Sam. Look, you know how it is~" You knew the name of the man, of course you did. He was one of your only frequent customers, the only one keeping you from angering the boss for not selling enough. What you knew of Samuel wasn't a lot, but you knew he always found ways to get enough money to buy from you every week. Enough money that you never made it on the chopping board of the cross eyes.
You gave him a sweet smile, with the best doe eyes you could make. Samuel had a thing for you; you didn't know how much of a thing he had for you, but hopefully it was enough for him not to turn on you.
"You bitch!" He huffed and slammed his fist on the concrete wall he had bumped into moments ago because you pushed him. "I always come to see you! You for my hits, and the times I don't have enough money, you give me the cold shoulder. You know I could've gone to some other dealer, but I chose you!" He stumbled closer to you, making you back into the wall of the alley. He pointed his finger at you shakily and thrusted it close to your face, his long nail, inches away from the tip of your nose.
"Listen, Samuel, I'm sorry 'bout pushing you; you startled me. But you know how it is in the cross-eye organization, I can't show up with less product and not have the money from it." You gave him a pleading look.
Without warning, he lunged at you, grabbing both your arms and pulling you down to the ground. He then got on top of you, his weight settling on your pelvis.
Oh no. You didn't want to know what he planned to do to you. He just looked down at you, huffing from how he exerted himself and still shaking.
He lightly slapped your face and grabbed it. "Such a nice face, but you ain't so nice, ain'tcha?" His face slowly got closer to yours, leaning down. The smell of his breath made you want to gag as he was breathing with his open mouth. The sound of his inhaling and exhaling disgusted you more, but not as much as his shit breath.
"Get the fuck off me!" You glared at him, wanting him to really get off you. You couldn't stand his shit breath on you any longer, and his weight was too heavy on you.
With a swift motion you made his face turn to the side. Whatever he was thinking of doing changed. His face contorted in anger and he let out a growl before reaching towards your head. He curled his shaking fingers into your short hair and yanked your head to the side.
You had a knife in your pocket, you could reach for it and stab him once to run away. But you didn’t want to hurt Samuel.
He on the other hand wanted to let out his anger. Holding your head in place with the tight grip he had on your hair, he started punching. He’d miss sometimes due to his shakiness but he was relentless.
Putting your arms up as a barrier didn’t stop him from punching your face. At least there wouldn’t be any magic involved. With magic he probably could’ve killed you. You knew what magic he could do and it was enough to kill someone, he could’ve been a strong sorcerer. But he needed black powder to be able to do anything with his magic.
Getting beat up was usual to you, for a sorcerer you were considered a pacifist. You couldn’t harm people easily who had a name and face to them. Much even less kill someone you knew. However you weren’t above violence, when you felt the killing intent and were left with no choice.
Being a low level black powder dealer surprisingly came with a lot of violence. Customers usually who don't have enough money get mad because you couldn't give them some for free and then they get physical.
Samuel who finally satiated his anger got off you slowly catching his breath. The look on his face from earlier came back.
He started searching your pockets and patting you down. Squeezing some parts of your body. He was copping a feel, while searching for the black powder you carried.
Shoving his hands away you tried to get up but he kept you down and kept searching you. He was bigger and taller than you, even with the withdrawal shakes, he was still stronger than you.
“I don’t have it with me!” You yelled but that didn’t stop him from continuing.
Finally he picked you up and shook you by your shorts, which made multiple little bags of black powder fall out from where you had them pinned inside your shorts.
As you chased after him your field of vision slowly began to become smaller and smaller, until you couldn’t see anymore.
Touching your face and shrieking in pain, you realized that the bastard managed to land good blows on your eyes. The adrenaline finally wore off you and you could feel your face throbbing in pain.
He was having withdrawals but he still managed to beat you up pretty well.
Now blinded by the throbbing and bulging black eyes on your face. You sat down on the ground. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence for you, missing one of your senses or missing something.
You felt the cool air, gently blowing on your face and hair. The quietness that night was something you always enjoyed, although you shouldn’t be out this late. Only people with no good intentions stayed out this late.
Feeling the cracked ground around with your hands, you collected two handfuls of small debris and pebbles.
Walking slowly around the streets you flicked in every direction to hear where the pebbles ricocheted. The sounds that the pebbles made when it came into contact with any type of material was able to tell you where you were.
The sound of a metal pole, the sound of concrete, the sound of the pebble thudding into hard dirt. All of this information swimming into your head, leads you through the familiar streets you’ve walked hundreds of times. Heck the only reason you were able to use pebbles to navigate based on just sounds was because you knew these streets.
If you were left blinded somewhere unfamiliar then you’d be stranded until one of your buddies came to the rescue, that’s if they knew where you were.
It was well past midnight when you finally arrived at the cross eyes hide out. You could tell by how cool the air was and how your footsteps echoed in every little crevice.
“Where have you been? We were getting worried about you!” Natsuki welcomed you in with a warm hug. The warmth emanating from her made you shiver, realizing how cold you were. You reached towards her head, and you patted it.
As you looked up, your view was framed. Only being able to see a small patch of light through your bruised eyes. You saw that everyone had stopped their poker game, probably in the middle of it, as evidenced by the cards all spread out on the table. A pit of familiarity set in your stomach.
You smiled warmly at Natsuki and then looked up at everyone else, who were already smiling when you met their eyes and walked towards you.
“I’m home, guys!”