Shion yanked the door open. The pink-haired man stood waiting with the same infuriatingly patient smile, as if he were a well-behaved pet.
"Ugh," Shion grunted, his disgust plain.
"Wow, that's harsh," Ida said, his tone light. "I can see you don't know how to talk to women."
"Hey YOU ! Don't call me by my name," Shion snapped. "How do you even know my name? What are you really doing here?!"
"The name's Ida Willard's, but call me Ida." The man's smile didn't waver.
"I don't care about any Kurtkin bastard's name," Shion spat, the words hot with venom. "Just thinking about your kind makes my blood boil. Get on with it and arrest me if that's your plan but leave my mother out of this."
"Your mother?" Ida's gaze shifted past Shion, settling on the still figure lying on the pallet. His playful expression softened into something more serious. "I've been trying to tell you but Why are you keeping her corpse ? This place… it reeks of death."
Shion's breath hitched. "It's none of your damn business, you Kurtkin pig!"
"You really do hate the empire, don't you?"
"Ha! And what are you going to do about it? Hit me? Kill me? I don't give a damn! Do whatever you want!" Rage, hot and blinding, surged through Shion. "My hatred for your people only grows stronger. If I had the power, I'd burn this whole place to the ground and free every last one of my people!"
Ida studied him, and instead of taking offense, his smile widened. "Yes…there it is.Those beautiful eyes….That's why I came here. Back in the market, when you told me to move…those eyes. It's been so long since someone has looked at me with that much pure fire."
Shion stared, confused. "Tch.Weirdo I'm not here to satisfy your perverted behavior."
"Oh?" Ida paused, then let out a genuine, ringing laugh. "You're so funny! Calling me a weirdo. I have a feeling you're going to keep entertaining me."
"Stop laughing! This isn't funny!" Shion yelled, his golden eyes blazing.
"Acting like a cornered animal…As I expected from a descendant of dragons." Ida's voice dropped, losing its playful edge. "The Atiluis, Crimson hair like true flame and Golden eyes like the sun. The real children of the dragon. Who would have thought the emperor would enslave an entire people just because of rumors? Rumors about blood that can regenerate flesh and cure any illness. He must be getting desperate for the sake of the crown prince."
Shion fell silent. The man wasn't mocking him; he was stating facts. A cold, sick feeling pooled in Shion's stomach. Did he just imply something about the emperor's son?
"Ah, but tell me," Ida continued, stepping closer. His voice was curious. "I've seen other Atiluis. They wear the hollow faces of those who have given up but your eyes… you still have fire. You still have hatred. Even though you were just a child when the enslavement happened ten years ago. You shouldn't remember the before-times so clearly."
Shion said nothing, his jaw clenched tight.
"You're an odd one, Shion. Your father is probably dead, having died to protect you and your mother. Now your people are forced to live here, as fodder for the monsters outside the Third Wall. Your mother is gone, taken by hunger and poverty." Ida's gaze was piercing, analytical. "Most people who endured what you have would be broken. Depressed. They might even end their own life but the only emotion I see in you is anger."
Ida took a final step, now standing directly before Shion. His voice was barely a whisper. "So tell me, Shion. Why is that the only emotion you feel? Not sadness, not even despair. What is fueling you? What, exactly, is keeping you alive?"
"Keeping me alive?" Shion's lips curled into a bitter, defiant smile. "The thought of that bastard emperor still breathing makes my blood boil! The memory of soldiers looking down on me, refusing to help while my mother wasted away… that's what keeps me alive! She's gone because of them!"
Ida didn't speak. He just watched, his strange eyes taking in every tremor of rage on Shion's face.
"So I will keep training. I will find a way out of here," Shion vowed, his voice trembling with intensity. "I will become strong enough to come back, to blow up this empire apart, and to free my people. Even if it kills me."
"I see," Ida said quietly. "And how do you plan to escape?"
Shion looked down at his own clenched fist. The hope drained from his voice, replaced by the heavy weight of reality. "I don't know…This slave mark… it acts like a bait. The moment I step beyond the wall, the apostles will find me."
Ida's hand shot out, his grip surprisingly gentle but firm as he pushed aside the ragged cloth on Shion's shoulder. He studied the slave mark etched there a complex, dark sigil that seemed to pulse against the boy's skin. For a long moment, he was quiet. Then, a slow, knowing smile touched his lips.
"That really does suck," Ida said softly, releasing him. "Now I understand the full picture, Shion."
"Huh?" Shion shoved the man's hand away, rubbing his shoulder. "What are you talking about? What do you know?"
"How old are you?" Ida asked, his tone shifting.
"I… I think eleven or twelve."
"I see. Still so young." Ida's gaze was appraising, almost impressed. "And yet you managed to slip through the Second Wall's defenses. You're incredible, Shion. Truly." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It makes me want to protect that spark in you, not let it die out. In fact, I'd like to fuel it. It's a real shame, then, that tomorrow everything is probably going to end for you."
A cold dread shot down Shion's spine. "Tomorrow? What's going to happen tomorrow?!"