"Frontline duty for Igumi, eh?" Naru said, relaxing his head against his arms. Viper Squad sat in Persetta's training yard, empty and isolated from the rest of Memento. The faint voices of patrols passed by every now and again, but they sat unfazed, soaking in every moment before their coming deployment.
"Jackbox is gonna do the jester right this time," Neko said with a grin.
Makoro and Enzumaki sat beside Neko, Enzumaki hanging with an arm around Makoro's thick neck.
"Don't get your hopes up Neko," Naru said flatly, closing his eyes lazily. Neko pouted dramatically.
"Knock it off, Naru," Enzumaki added in annoyance. Makoro grit his teeth, clenching a fist.
"You piss off Enzumaki, you piss off me!" he rumbled. Enzumaki smiled briefly, before touching his arm gently. The visible release of anger made Neko chuckle.
Naru raised his hands in surrender. "Easy now, Makoro. Just joking around."
The brute was too occupied with a butterfly that landed on his finger now—paying no attention to Naru.
Laughter lingered in the yard, soft and unguarded. It almost felt like peace.
Neko leaned back on his palms and stared up at the open sky above Persetta, watching clouds drift lazily past the stone spires. The sound of his squad blurred into the background—their voices fading, replaced by a familiar quiet that always crept in when he let his guard down for too long. Moments like this never lasted.
When the others eventually dispersed, Neko slipped away without a word.
He climbed until the noise of Persetta dulled to a distant murmur, boots scraping against old stone as he pulled himself onto a slanted rooftop overlooking the lower district. From up here, the city almost looked kind. Lanterns glowed softly, rooftops packed tight like they were holding each other up. But his eyes drifted further—past the cleaner streets, past the rebuilt walls—toward the shadows where Persetta used to swallow men whole.
The wind tugged at his clothes as he sat near the edge, knees drawn in, grin long gone.
Back when he and Kubaki had slept under broken awnings and stolen warmth from alley fires. When hunger was a constant companion, and laughter was something they forced just to survive another night.
Neko closed his eyes. The roof beneath him faded, replaced by cracked stone, damp tunnels, and the echo of Kubaki's voice—sharp, mocking, alive.
The stench of rot clung to the air like a curse.
Beneath the fading sunlight, a boy with hair once white but now streaked with dirt rummaged through piles of trash. His face was too young to be this thin. Too young to have the look of someone who had gone hungry for days.
"Hey! Away from that!" a local woman shouted. Neko's head snapped upwards. Without a word, he clutched a piece of crusted, stale bread and a bruised fruit to his chest, and bolted down a silent alleyway. Bare feet slammed against pavement before he ducked below a half-lowered gate, leading into the buried tunnels of Persetta's undertow.
It reeked of mildew and despair. Figures lined the walls—the homeless, the sickly, and the forgotten. Neko kept his head low, trying to avoid the glares of the neighbors eyeing his food. He weaved past them until he reached the end of the passage. The distant cough of a young boy told Neko his destination was close in the darkened halls.
At the far end, near a sewer runoff, the boy sat perched against the stone wall, eyes sunken.
His skin was pale, and ribs were visible even in the stretched fabric of his ragged shirt.
"Kubaki…" Neko said in a tone just above a whisper. "I brought food."
The kid coughed once more, eyes following the sound of his brother's voice. His eyes gained life when he spotted him.
"Neko! Thank you."
The boy's face lit up briefly at the sight of the meager meal before the light dimmed again. Neko crouched beside him, handing over the bread.
"Damn the APC… Since they cut off rations into Persetta, half of us are living like rats!"
"Older brother?"
Neko hesitated, shaking his head slightly. "It's nothing. Don't worry."
Kubaki smiled faintly—one that didn't quite believe it, but wouldn't push. Kubaki raised the bread slowly to his mouth, taking the smallest bite to preserve the grain as long as possible.
Weeks went by for the boys. The tunnels remained unchanged—the people still bathed in dirt and water of unknown origin. Except now, Kubaki's breaths were flimsy, each sounding like it may be his last. His coughs echoed across the stone as unwanted reminders.
Neko sprinted through the path leading to the corner they had made camp. He carried a piece of old smoked salmon and a tray of peas.
"Here, Kubaki. Eat up."
Kubaki took the food into his trembling hands, stared at it for a moment… then pushed it back toward Neko.
"What? Don't like salmon?"
Kubaki gave a weak laugh. "I'm not getting better, Neko. We both know where this is going."
Neko scowled. "Don't talk like that. Don't say stupid shit."
"Be real. Since ma and pa died… it's been like this. In fact, it's only getting worse… and there's nothing we can do."
Neko's grip around the food tightened. His voice cracked, though he forced a growl through grit teeth.
"Eat."
Kubaki hesitated, then took a small bite.
"Good, now finish the rest. You need your strength."
He stayed sitting beside him, pretending not to notice the way Kubaki's hands shook… or how hard it was for him to swallow.
Kubaki slowly chewed a piece of salmon, the smallest smile tugging at his lips.
"Y'know, Neko… I always thought it'd be funny if you became something like a comedian one day."
"Huh?" Neko turned his head to the side, eyeing his brother in curiosity. "Where'd that come from?"
"Just thinking. You were always a jokester when we were younger. When times were simpler. You had a knack for making problems softer with your humor."
Neko's eyes dropped to the tainted floor. "There's not much to joke about anymore."
"My favorite," Kubaki started, struggling to grin, "was when you talked like you were someone else. When you described yourself and your actions from another's perspective."
He coughed, this one weaker than the others before. "Because, you knew that goofiness was the cure… but now… you don't anymore."
"It's not that easy, Kubaki," Neko whispered.
"I didn't say it'd be easy brother. But lying here all day, I've been left time to think."
He let out a warm chuckle—weak, but genuine. It cut through the cold air like a small flame in the dark.
That laugh sank into Neko's chest. His eyes widened, and a single tear slipped down his cheek before he quickly turned away.
"Neko?" Kubaki asked, tilting his head slightly. Neko wiped the tear away with his thumb, raising himself off the ground.
"It's nothing. Finish that food, I'll be back. It's pouring outside, perfect time to grab some fresh water."
Kubaki gave him a small wave, the food still resting beside him.
An hour had passed. Neko returned with a dented tin cup clasped between his two steadied hands. His pace quickened as he approached his brother.
"Kubaki, wake up buddy. Got some fresh water for you."
There wasn't an answer. Kubaki's head laid against the stone wall unresponsive.
"Asleep are you? Quit being lazy," Neko said, shaking his brother. Kubaki's head slipped from its resting place, falling limply to the side.
"Kubaki?"
Neko shook him harder, panic flooding his voice. His scream echoed through the tunnels in a raw and breaking tone.
The food he had brought earlier remained half eaten at the young boy's side. Neko's tears hit the floor—the tin cup spilled, drenching his ragged clothes. The only family he had was gone.
The echo faded as soon as it left his mouth. Neko opened his eyes where the beams of a drifting sun hit relentlessly. His legs dangled just over the edge of the rooftop, kicking aimlessly. The mask—a painted jester hat—was lowered around his neck.
"I hope you're proud of me, buddy. I wear this mask for ya, y'know."
His head dipped a bit, hiding the faint—but real—smile that tugged at his lips.
"I miss you, man."
The wind picked up, brushing against him in a way that felt almost like a hand on his shoulder. For a second, it was as if the air itself carried a reply.
A voice broke out, startling Neko.
"You alright?"
The jester turned sharply, pulling his mask up to contain the flicker of surprise.
"Ah, Naru."
The leader of Viper Squad stood a few feet away, relaxed with a knowing smile. "You're always up here. Figured I'd stop by and see if you wanted to walk around the district."
Neko tilted his head, tapping his chin with exaggerated thought.
"Hmm… does the jester want to bless his friend with his presence?"
Naru turned with a mock sigh, though his smile betrayed his facade.
"Fine, if you don't wanna—"
"No! Wait! The jester will take up your offer!" Neko shouted frantically behind. Naru chuckled, before offering a hand up.
The two leapt down from the rooftop, landing in step as the city swallowed them whole.