The late morning sun lingered over Mercedes, its light spreading across the cobblestone streets and softening the edges of the town as it moved toward noon. Jurgen walked through it at an unhurried pace, his bag secured across his back, the motion of his steps steady but subdued. Now and then, he pressed a hand lightly against his chest, wincing at the lingering pain from the previous day, and beneath his shirt he could still feel the bandages Hana had wrapped around him, tight and unbroken against his skin.
His gaze drifted through the streets as he moved. The town was active in a way that felt distant from him, filled with overlapping voices, casual laughter, and the sound of carts rolling over uneven stone while merchants called out to passing customers. He slowed near an apple stand, his attention resting there for a moment longer than necessary.
"It's been so long," he murmured under his breath.
Without much hesitation, he took an apple and bit into it as he walked. Juice ran down his chin, but he did not bother to wipe it away, chewing slowly while continuing forward as though nothing about it mattered.
A voice cut through the ambient noise.
"Hey!… Hey!"
Jurgen turned slightly while still chewing, the apple partially in his mouth as he looked toward the source. The shop owner was pointing at him with clear irritation, his expression tightening as he raised his voice again, insisting that he pay for what he had taken.
Jurgen paused for a moment, realizing only then what had happened. He swallowed, cheeks still faintly puffed, and gave a small, awkward nod as he reached into his pouch. His fingers searched quickly, but there was nothing there. After a brief silence, he pulled his hand back out and let out a strained chuckle, rubbing the back of his head as if trying to ease the situation.
"I seem to have… misplaced my money" he said
The shop owner did not look amused. He tapped his foot impatiently while waiting, his expression hardening further as the silence stretched. Before Jurgen could say anything else, the man grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shook him roughly, forcing his head to jerk with the motion as if he were something light and inconvenient rather than a person. The apple was snatched from his hand in the same motion.
"Someone's going to have to pay for it," the man said sharply.
As the situation held for a moment longer, a second presence quietly became noticeable behind Jurgen. A boy had appeared there without any clear sign of arrival, as if he had simply been part of the space all along and only now became visible. He stood still for a moment, blinking once as he observed the scene.
He had neatly parted black hair that framed his face in a simple but deliberate way, and dark blue eyes that followed everything with a quiet attentiveness. He wore plain black pants that ended just below the knees and a simple brown long-sleeved shirt, there was nothing particularly striking about his appearance at first glance, but his posture carried a controlled stillness, as though every part of him was placed with intention.
He stepped forward then, speaking in a soft, composed voice as he addressed the shop owner and referred to him respectfully, offering to cover the cost. As he spoke, he took out a small pouch of coins, and the faint sound of them clinking together broke the tension that had formed.
The shop owner, still irritated, muttered something under his breath before releasing Jurgen with a rough shove and returning to his stand.
Jurgen staggered slightly from the release, then steadied himself and turned fully toward the boy. He had not noticed him arrive at all, not even a shift in movement or sound, the realization sat with him for a brief moment as he studied the boy more carefully. The boy raised a hand in a small, casual wave, his expression remaining composed and unbothered by the situation he had just stepped into.
Jurgen's body reacted before his thoughts fully formed, tension tightening briefly through him before easing into caution instead. He studied the boy for a moment longer, then spoke in a rough, controlled voice.
"Who the hell are you?"
Jurgen tightened the strap of his bag and turned away without waiting for an answer. His steps resumed immediately, steady and deliberate, as though he had already decided that whatever this was, it did not concern him enough to remain.
He hurried after Jurgen, the soft scuff of his shoes against the stone barely carrying through the open street. As he moved, he adjusted his glasses with careful precision, his fingers lingering at the frame before settling it properly on his nose.
"Pierre… Pierre Findler," he offered at last, his voice soft and slightly hesitant, as though testing whether it would be accepted at all.
A faint cough followed his introduction, subtle enough to feel almost habitual rather than accidental.
Jurgen did not respond. His pace remained unchanged, his shoulders set in a rigid line that gave no space for acknowledgment, as if the presence beside him were nothing more than something incidental drifting in the same direction.
"So… are you also here for the—" Pierre began, tone light with curiosity.
"Get lost."
The interruption came abruptly, sharp enough to cut through the surrounding noise. Jurgen did not slow as he spoke, nor did he turn to look at him. "I have no business with someone who lies about something as trivial as a name."
His voice carried a coldness that stripped any softness from the words, leaving them blunt and final.
Pierre, however, did not fall back. If anything, he seemed to drift a little closer as he walked, his expression unchanged, his calm bordering on unbothered. "My my… who said I lied?" he replied, a faint amusement threading through his tone. His glasses caught the light as he tilted his head slightly.
He adjusted the bridge of them again with that same measured precision, followed by another soft cough that felt more deliberate than necessary, as though even his pauses were controlled.
"You can't just tell someone lied about their name without even—"
"You made it up a minute ago," Jurgen cut in flatly, still not looking at him. "That is enough. I don't need to hear anything else you have to say."
Pierre let out a small, awkward sound that might have been a laugh as he quickened his pace to match Jurgen's stride, the soft thud of his shoes now trying to keep up.
"Ah—no, see, it's not like that. Well, it is, but also not really—" he said, words slightly tangled as he spoke, one hand shifting to the strap of his bag as his fingers fidgeted.
"Well, my name doesn't really matter anyway. What matters are the trials ahead, right? It's not like you—"
"Mm."
Jurgen's response was minimal, almost dismissive. His eyes remained forward, scanning the path ahead without interest in the conversation behind him. Every step he took felt deliberate, as if he were walking through something that required no attention beyond direction. Pierre forced a small smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face while one of his eyes twitched faintly, betraying a strain beneath his composed demeanor.
"Hey… are you even listening? It's fine if you're not, just—at least say something."
Jurgen muttered under his breath, gaze shifting briefly across the surroundings as he tried remembering the path.
"Hmm… if I remember right… was it this way… or that way…"
Pierre leaned forward slightly, curiosity sharpening his tone. "Hm? Did you say something?"
"Tch… ah, what the hell, I'm lost."
The words came out abruptly as Jurgen slapped a hand against his forehead in irritation, his shoulders tightening as frustration briefly broke through his otherwise controlled movement.
Pierre clicked his tongue softly, the sound light but pointed, before letting a faint, amused smile settle on his face. "Tsk, tsk… lost already?" he said, his tone easing into something teasing as he relaxed his posture, watching Jurgen as though observing something mildly entertaining rather than inconvenient.
"Aaaah… what shall we do about this?" he added, dragging the words slightly as he leaned back, one hand lifting idly to his head in a careless gesture. Jurgen stopped mid-step, then turned slightly, eyes narrowing as he cut in immediately.
"I'm not lost."