Cards Of The Silent King-Chapter 10: Night Market, Late

Eleven at night. The Ashford Night Market was still alive. Neon signs buzzed overhead. Red. Blue. Green. They reflected off the wet pavement. Steam rose from food stalls in thick white plumes. The air smelled of sesame oil. Charcoal. Spices. Sugar.

Crowds moved through the narrow street. Couples holding hands. Groups of students laughing. Office workers loosening ties. They walked past the shadows without looking. They bought food. They talked. They lived. Kaito walked against the flow. Hands in pockets. Hood up.

Kuro’s voice grated in his mind. Kuro said, "Too many people. Smell like grease and perfume. I hate it."

Kaito stepped around a group of tourists. He kept his eyes on the stalls. On the alleys between them. On the spaces where the light did not reach.

Kuro pressed. Kuro asked, "Why are we here. You have food at home. You have silence at home. This is noise. This is chaos."

Kaito said, "Food."

Kuro asked, "You could buy food anywhere. A convenience store. A vending machine. Why here."

Kaito said, "Fresh."

Kuro said, "Fresh is overrated. Dead is safer."

Kaito ignored him. He stopped in front of a stall. Wooden sign. Handwritten characters. Steam billowed from the bamboo baskets stacked high. Uncle Kenji stood behind the counter. He was older. Grey hair. Apron stained with sauce. He smiled when he saw Kaito.

Kenji said, "Late tonight."

Kaito nodded. Kaito said, "Work."

Kenji lifted a basket. He used tongs to place dumplings into a paper boat. Six pieces. Steaming. Glazing with oil. Kenji said, "Always work. You are too young for always work. On the house."

Kaito said, "Pay."

Kenji pushed the boat across the counter. Kenji said, "Insult. You keep the street safe. I keep you fed. That is the deal."

Kaito took the boat. The heat warmed his hands. Kaito said, "Thanks."

Kenji said, "Eat. Before it gets cold."

Kaito stepped away from the stall. He found a quiet spot near the end of the row. A narrow alley between a clothing shop and a closed electronics store. Shadows pooled here. Dark. Still. He leaned against the brick wall. He picked up a dumpling. He blew on it. Steam curled into the dark.

Kuro sounded suspicious. Kuro said, "He knows you. The old man. He knows your name."

Kaito said, "Regular."

Kuro said, "Regular customers do not get free food. Regular customers do not get looked at like that. Like you are something precious."

Kaito took a bite. The skin was soft. The filling was hot. Pork. Chives. Ginger.

Kuro asked, "What did you do for him."

Kaito said, "Nothing."

Kuro shifted in the card. The Ace of Spades warmed against Kaito’s ribs. Kuro said, "Liar. People do not give pieces of themselves for nothing. What did you save."

Kaito chewed. He swallowed. He looked at the alley wall. Three feet away. Behind the stack of empty crates. The air shimmered. It was small. A hairline fracture in the reality. Purple light bled through. Barely visible. A Drifter. Confused. Weak.

If it opened fully, it would suck the heat from the stall. Kenji would freeze. The customers would feel a chill. They would leave. The market would die slowly. Kaito set the food down on a crate. He wiped his hands on a napkin.

Kuro warned, "Do not. You are eating. Let it be. It is small. It will fade."

Kaito said, "No."

Kuro said, "It will take thirty seconds. Your food will get cold."

Kaito said, "Cold is fine."

Kaito stepped toward the crates. He moved the top one. Quiet. The shimmer pulsed. He held out his hand. He did not need a card for this. Not yet. Just will. Just pressure. He pushed.

The air resisted. It felt like pushing against a rubber wall. The purple light flared. A low hum vibrated in his teeth.

Kuro advised, "Harder. It is anchored. Something small is holding it open."

Kaito focused. He pictured the crack sealing. Stitching. Closing. He pushed harder. His muscles tensed. The hum grew louder. A small insect-like creature crawled out of the crack. Transparent. Glowing. It tried to bite the air. Kaito crushed it with his palm. Smoke. Ash. Gone. The crack snapped shut. The sound was like a finger flicking a glass.

Silence returned. The alley was just an alley. Brick. Trash. Shadow. Kaito exhaled. He shook his hand. Numbness faded from his fingers.

Kuro noted, "Thirty seconds. Record time. But still. Your dumplings."

Kaito walked back to the crate. He picked up the paper boat. The steam was gone. The dumplings were lukewarm. He picked one up. He ate it.

Kuro said, "Cold."

Kaito said, "Good."

Kuro said, "You have strange tastes."

Kaito finished the food. He wiped his mouth. He crumpled the paper. He threw it into a bin. He walked back toward the stall. Kenji was wiping the counter. He looked up. He saw Kaito. He did not look at the alley. He did not know what had happened. He only knew that the chill he felt earlier was gone.

Kenji asked, "Good?"

Kaito said, "Good."

Kenji said, "Come back tomorrow. I make noodles. Better than dumplings."

Kaito said, "Okay."

Kenji said, "Go home. Sleep. You look like a ghost."

Kaito said, "Working on it."

Kaito turned away. He walked down the market street. The crowds were thinning now. Closing time. Shutters came down. Lights switched off. The city was going to sleep.

Kuro said, "He felt it. The old man. He felt the change in pressure."

Kaito said, "Maybe."

Kuro said, "He knows. Not everything. But enough."

Kaito stopped at the end of the street. He looked back. Kenji was locking the stall. He hummed a tune. Off-key. Happy. A group of teenagers walked past him. Laughing. One of them bumped into the stall. Kenji laughed too. He shook his head. He walked away. Safe.

Kuro’s voice was softer now. Less sarcasm. Kuro said, "This is what you protect. Old men. Dumplings. Noise."

Kaito said, "Yes."

Kuro said, "It is small."

Kaito said, "Important."

Kuro said, "To you."

Kaito said, "To everyone."

Kaito turned the corner. The market disappeared behind him. The street grew darker. Quieter. He walked toward the Grey District. Toward his apartment. Toward the cards on his desk. His stomach was full. His hands were warm.

The count was forty-eight. Forty-eight cracks sealed. Forty-eight times the market stayed open. Forty-eight times Kenji made dumplings. Kaito put his hands in his pockets. He touched the Ace of Spades.

Kuro muttered, "You are getting soft. Next you will want to save the world."

Kaito said, "Saving it."

Kuro said, "One dumpling at a time."

Kaito said, "Yes."

Kuro laughed. A dry, rasping sound. Kuro said, "Fine. One dumpling at a time. But tomorrow. We hunt. No more markets. No more old men."

Kaito said, "Tomorrow."

Kuro said, "Promise me."

Kaito said, "Promise."

They walked into the dark. The city lights faded behind them. The shadows of the Grey District rose up to meet them. Kaito did not hurry. He did not run. He walked with the pace of someone who had time. Someone who had won the night.

He passed a convenience store. The clerk waved. Kaito nodded. He passed a park. The swings moved in the wind. Empty. He passed the alley where he fought the Wanderer last week. The wall was repaired. Fresh paint. No one knew why the wall needed painting.

He reached his building. He climbed the stairs. He unlocked the door. Inside, he took off his jacket. He hung it up. The cards settled. He went to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water. He drank it standing by the window. The market was dark now. Only the streetlights remained.

Kuro said, "You should sleep. School tomorrow. More math. More noise."

Kaito said, "Know."

Kuro said, "Then go."

Kaito set the glass down. He walked to the bedroom. He lay on the bed. He closed his eyes. He could still taste the ginger. The pork. The warmth. It was a small thing. A tiny thing in a city of millions. It was enough.

He slept.