Sin suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, “Hey, you haven’t told me about your place.”

I followed suit, a few steps ahead, “What?”

“You’ve never followed up with that ‘bad place’ of yours.”

“What do you mean? I told you about it after we talked in class.”

“Don’t pull my leg,” she pointed towards me, “We both heard that bell.”

“Maybe I told you everything,” I shrugged, “You just didn’t hear it 'cause’ the bell was ringing.”

I turned around and kept walking. I got about a minute’s worth of a stroll further away before turning back again. Sin remained where she stopped, her arms crossed, her mouth puffed to a pout. I stared at her for a moment as she stood some great distance away against the backdrop of a waning sunset, young in its transition to a star-filled night sky. We were on a paved, dirt path stretching for who knew how many kilometres surrounded on each side by fields of golden paddies ripe for harvesting.

“Okay,” I cried out as I waved her towards me, “I’ll tell you.”

Even from such a distance, I could spot it; in an instant, Sin’s face glowed to that of a fisherman with a towed line. She bent her head down to her shoulders and broke into a sprint. In what seemed to be split seconds, she covered the ground between us that I took a minute to walk across. She slammed her heel against the ground as she stopped right next to me, kicking up a cloud of dust and dirt.

Without skipping a breath, she wrapped her arm around my shoulder and yanked me close, “Really?”

I was still stunned by her speed. I looked down at her legs. Sure enough, they were strong, freakishly so. The upper half of her body belonged to that of a petite, athletic schoolgirl. Her lower half seemed to spend its days juicing on steroids and consuming protein by the metric ton. Every square inch of muscle that could be grown out had been grown out. I reckoned I could run a sharp knife between the ridges of her bulging thighs to the end of her defined calves and end up with no more than a long, shallow scratch and a blunt, chipped blade.

“You’re gonna tell me or you’re gonna keep staring at my legs?”

“Give me two more seconds.”

They weren’t obvious at first glance; they blended to the shape of her figure well, but I could make the reliable guess that that was a mistake most people would make. They grabbed my focus as soon as I invested some degree of excess attention to it.

“Two seconds up.”

I looked back up towards Sin, “I was a child soldier.”

The girl’s freckled face turned into that of a surprise. She was silent for a long while as her mind struggled to keep up with my words.

The result of her minute-long pondering was a smirk, “Yeah, right.”

I didn’t respond to that.

Sin saw my response and returned to her mind once again. This time, she came to a different conclusion, one that didn’t need words and was fully conveyed in her expression.

Her arm slipped away from my shoulder, “Must’ve met a lot of girls, then.”

I gawked at her for a moment, “That’s your first thought?”

“Dunno’ what to say,” she shrugged, “I ain’t ever seen a man soldier before.”

“Well, not exactly,” I resumed my stroll, “I wasn’t on the frontlines. I was more of a support role. An all-rounder. A medic. A supplier. Backup. That kind of stuff. Nothing major.”

Sin followed from behind, “Where were you fighting?”

“Everywhere.”

“Name one ‘everywhere’.”

I told her a name off the top of my head.

“Never heard of it.”

“Won’t blame you. Just some third-world civil war no one cares about. Blood diamonds, oil, trade routes, territory, mineral deposits; hell, sometimes they just don’t like each other and just start hitting each other over the head.”

“Who were you fighting for?”

“Anyone paying the most. I was part of a mercenary band. One out of a thousand others. We’ll sometimes fight against people we used to ally with. It’s a messy business.”

We both stayed quiet for a while as we continued our stroll.

The realization then hit Sin in full, “You were just a kid.”

“Sergeant trained me well. Taught me all the tips to stay alive. Stay hidden, act dead when necessary, never leave yourself with no escape, run away when the going gets tough, only strike when it’s a confirmed hit. There’s more to it, but that’s the basics.”

Sin stayed silent for a moment.

She turned towards me, “So you’ve killed before?”

I let that question simmer in the air for half a minute.

“I only ever used saps and blackjacks. I mostly break shins and kneecaps; places that hinder movement. I rarely ever hit the head; mostly because I couldn’t reach it.”

“But you’ve killed before.”

“Those I’ve managed to hit only went unconscious.”

“How are you sure?”

“As sure as I sleep well at night.”

We kept walking, with Sin keeping a close eye on me after my last few words.

I turned towards her, “Calm down. Conflicts died a few years ago. We only did some protection and escort jobs here and there. I mostly handled logistics. It’s been years since I last held a weapon.”

Sin shook her head, “Not that.”

“Then what’s with the eyes?”

“So you’ve met a lot of girls?”

“What the hell is with you and me meeting girls in wars?”

“Would you rather talk about said wars?”

I thought about it for a while.

I sighed, “They’re all aunties and old veterans, mostly ogres and beastkins. And as far as I’m concerned they weren’t pedophiles. If I ever meet a girl, she’s either real young or well past maturity. I was a lucky kid. Most kids my age then weren’t expected to last long but like I said, Sergeant trained me well.”

“How’d you end up in that situation anyway?”

“Sergeant and Lieutenant had a fling. They forgot to wear rubber. They didn’t want to abort. Rest is history.”

“They just brought you along? Since you were a baby?”

I shrugged, “Mercenary work was child support.”

“Wait, how did your pops end up in that situation in the first place?”

“Sergeant? Well, he never told me. But he’s a good scrapper; not as good as Lieutenant but still a decent one. That’s probably why.”

“Huh,” Sin snorted, “First time I heard of two man soldiers.”

“We aren’t rare. Plus, the places we’ve been to can’t really pick and choose. If he can beat someone or stitch a wound, he’s in.”

“Does he need to bring his own weapon?”

“Some do, some don’t. Doesn’t matter anyway. I mean, it’s just a weapon. Getting something big or sharp isn’t rocket science. Some don’t even use weapons.”

“But a man soldier can’t make his own weapon.”

“Right, everyone knows that.”

“Can you make your own weapon?”

“Do I look like a girl to you?”

“With that hair, you’re convincing me.”

I changed the topic, “You’re a girl, right, Sin? What kind of weapon you got?”

That seemed to tilt Sin off her focus. She looked away from me, her head kept low between her shoulders.

I let out a smirk, “What?”

“Not showing.”

“It’s only fair.”

“You’re a soldier,” she glanced towards me, “You’ve probably seen better ones.”

“I’ve definitely seen better ones,” I leaned in towards Sin, “But I’ve never seen yours.”

Sin didn’t respond for a while.

“Fine,” she caved in a few seconds later.

Sin stopped walking, and I followed suit, looking back towards her. Her head still faced down, she extended an empty palm towards me and, ever so dim, sparkles emerged from within her fingers. It grew ever more radiant and brighter, the sparkles increasing in both size and quantity. It is to the point where Sin was holding a small ball of light, bubbling above her hand. The sparkles began to spread, reaching a length that extended past her wrist, growing almost twice her palm’s width.

It was a sight I’d never get tired of watching.

The sparkles on Sin’s hand glowed for a half dozen seconds longer before diminishing in an instant, revealing a solid object emerging from its glowing core.

There, sitting on Sin’s palm, was a switchblade. It had a plain black grip and blade whose end extended right down the middle, with its edges curving down both of its sides. From its design, I could tell it was the kind that operated with a mechanism that opens and retracts the blade directly from the end of the grip; the kind you’d see in more modern models.

“It ain’t so bad,” I commented.

Sin cast the switchblade aside, throwing it into the paddy fields. The switchblade flew through the air for a solid second before it began bursting with light and disintegrating in a shower of sparkles that rained atop the paddy.

“You’re just saying that,” she murmured as she began trudging down the path.

“I’m serious,” I caught up with her from behind, “Most soldiers I’ve seen carry shitty clubs and machetes. I’ve never seen one with a modern knife before.”

“Whatever,” Sin stopped abruptly and turned on her heel, meeting with me face to face, “What about you?”

I had to grind my toes into the dirt to stop myself from crashing into her, “I-I just told you, didn’t I?”

She pointed at my nose from up close, “Why are you here? How’d you get from some third-world country to another third-world country? What’s up? Another war going on? One we don’t know about?”

“No, none of that,” I pushed her finger away, “Your country is far from third-world anyway. You have your own military to deal with your conflicts.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

I sighed, “You want to know that too?”

I stared at Sin’s expression for a moment for confirmation. Sure enough, her resolve was as heavy as a sunken anchor.

I caved in, “We did well. We landed a big protection contract with an oil baron to escort him around town. We’ve managed to secure enough wages to fund a retirement. Though instead, they gave it to me, and sent me off to live somewhere else.”

“They threw you away?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” I shook my head, “More like my parents trying to get me a better life. Sergeant taught me well enough that I knew children my age aren’t supposed to be calculating ration expenses and standing guard in front of brick mansions at night.”

“And how’d you get to our school? This town ain’t exactly a good start for a better life. How’d you know about this place anyway?”

“I didn’t. I pinned a world map on a wall and threw a dart. Then I bought the cheapest flight and the rest was my pocket money. That was a year ago. I hitchhiked around the country and did jobs. Then one of my bosses told me I should be in school instead. So I bought a school uniform and a bus ticket. Here I am now.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you got to our school.”

“I walked around in the morning and found the building. Saw crowds walking in. I blended with them and sat in the first class I saw.”

“You serious?”

“I don’t think I can make a lie as elaborate as that.”

“So that’s why you got called into the office so often during class.”

“Not having any identification or passport does complicate things.”

“Well, for a one-year foreigner you speak our language well.”

“I’m a fast learner,” I shrugged.

Sin stayed quiet for a while.

“Do you miss them? Your parents?”

I reciprocated with a moment of silence of my own.

“We made sure to give each other final farewells.”

We stared at each other for a moment. Sin then looked towards the sky. I did too. It had gone dark fast. Dim blips of stars began showing up in the vast, dark expanse sitting above our heads. The sun, still setting over the horizon, was now rendered powerless under the moon’s domain, who’s now climbing its way up into its rightful throne in the black canvas that is the night sky.

“So,” Sin turned around and continued down the path, “Where’re you going next?”

I followed her, thinking for a while before speaking, “Don’t think I got the funds for that.”

“So you’re staying here?”

“Guess so.”

“Where’re you staying?”

“Anywhere with a roof, I suppose?”

Sin stared at me as if I was some circus animal, “You’re homeless?”

“I prefer the term ‘vagabond’.”

“Can’t get a motel room or something?”

I dug into my pockets and pulled out the last of my funds, which was one crumpled, dirty note and two coins, one of which had a surface so scraped that it was hard to tell if it was a half or a quarter.

Sin looked down to my palm, “You’re broke and homeless.”

“I prefer the phrase ‘free agent’.”

Sin took one last look at my money before glancing back up towards me.

“Want to stay with me instead?”