The Butterfly Effect

{-Ouka-}

She casually walked up behind the man, stopping at different stalls or occasionally taking a slightly different route. All it really did, though, was make sure that he didn’t notice how close she was—how she gradually crept up behind him.

And, after one quick glance around her, promptly snatched the coin pouch he’d had carelessly attached to his belt.

She’d casually started walking away, wondering exactly how long it would take the man to notice…

Before she heard the “Hey, stop her! That woman’s a thief!”

“Oh. That must be my cue,” she remarked with a certain level of nonchalance that only came with practice. “See you later!”

She waved and, before the soldiers could come to corner her, she darted off. Each time she passed another soldier, they stopped for a minute then went to chase after her, too. Whatever made them think they were going to be able to catch her, she supposed.

But no one knew the backstreets like the people who were forced to live in them.

She sharply turned into a narrow alley, already disorienting a few of her pursues. A handful kept trying to follow her, though. That’s what knocking over the barrel was supposed to stop but, as expected, there were always those one or two too determined to see “justice” done.

Too bad they’d be going home disappointed.

Ouka swerved in between a couple of other alleys and streets, using whatever she could as distractions. She never let go of the coin pouch, but she did grab an extra apple from a random stall during the chase. She’d already been caught for one crime, what was one more?

On her run, she passed by two types of people. One group—the ones like her, in one way or another—simply looked up, realized what was happening, then turned away again. The other—who thought her nothing more than a petty thief—saw her and the chase and demanded more guards try to catch her.

It didn’t matter, though. By the time she’d reached her destination, no one was following her. She slowed down once she was sure she was alone, then casually walked to her “home.”

She pushed back the torn curtain and went into the one room “home” that, frankly, somehow hadn’t fallen apart ten years ago. When she saw her companion, she grinned, and tossed him the apple.

“Have a good day, Brenan? And can you split that in half for us? You’re the one with the knife.”

He’d seemed a bit distracted, at first, even if he effortlessly caught the apple. “Yeah.” He pushed back a little bit of his messy red hair and grabbed his knife to complete her request.

“Something the matter?” she prompted. She wandered up behind him, then took a seat at the empty barrel in the corner and showed him the coin pouch. “Look, maybe this will make you feel better. Can you imagine those dumbasses still just leave these kinds of things practically lying around? Guess those nobles don’t think we exist. Definitely don’t act like it. Suppose that just makes our job a little easier though, huh?”

“I got a little bit too but, uh… it’s probably not as much. An old lady gave me a couple to patch up a hole in her roof.” He passed one half of the apple to her, then dug in his pocket to add a couple of coins to her pile.

“You’ve got to start actually doing something eventually. We’re not going to get anywhere if all you do is a couple of odd jobs for old people. That’s not going to get you much more than begging on the street will.”

“I know.”

“Look, I get it. Kind of. But at least we’re not killing people, right? And we’re not taking stuff that others desperately need. I’ve only stolen from those nobles—they’re the only ones worth stealing from, anyway. And nobles aren’t going to miss a couple of silver coins. They throw those things around like coppers…”

He mumbled an agreement, even if he didn’t really want to accept it. A part of her wished that they could’ve done something better—that, somehow, they could get themselves out of here. She knew there was always the possibility of a miracle.

And then there was just the stuff that was completely impossible.

They’d dug themselves in this grave. There was no going back out of it, not without having to be pushed right back in.

Ouka decided to bring the conversation back around. “But that’s not everything, right? You look a little more distracted than usual. Did you run into something or someone while you were out..?”

“Yeah. I… thought I saw a couple of them.”

“Did they notice you?”

“No, I don’t think so. Didn’t acknowledge me if they had, at least.”

“Where’d you see them?”

“Down the street from that place with the weird looking mannequins.”

“Good, it’s not near where we usually wander.”

“What do you think we should do..?”

“The most obvious thing in this situation: nothing. Just don’t engage. Try to keep them from noticing you and, if they do, get the hell out of there as soon as possible. Sound like a good enough plan?”

“Mhm. You said it yourself, there’s not really a lot of options, so…”

Ouka, after eating, opened the pouch out of curiosity. It had a single silver coin and a couple of coppers; not the jackpot, but certainly enough to make things a little easier. Mostly to herself, she continued, “I think the people around here are starting to recognize us. It’s probably about time we got going.”

Brenan mumbled something.

“What was that?”

He shuffled nervously, then admitted, “I didn’t really want to go. That lady had introduced me to her friends, they all seemed so nice… and when they heard about what we did, they all seemed willing to try to find something better for us.”

“I thought we’ve gone over this already. We can’t just go back. They aren’t doing anything but telling you what you want to hear—that’s just what they do. They don’t really know what it takes to make a difference, in the end. I don’t think there is anything that can bridge the gaps at this point…”

“You’re probably right.” He gestured to the coins. “So I’m guessing all of these are going to go towards traveling? Do you know where you’d want to go?”

“I figured we’d try to get by with what we have already, and touch this stuff if we need it.” She gave his second question some more thought. “I don’t know where we should go. Maybe towards the mountains? It can’t be anywhere too different than here, at least. We won’t exactly have a reliable way of keeping warm if the winters get any colder. I guess we could go to the coast, too, but there’ll probably be more guards for the higher amount of dumb nobles…”

Suddenly, one of the “curtains” fluttered and Ouka was fairly certain she saw a glimpse of a person on the other side. A quick glance at Brenan and he was already hiding the coins. They could be gone in a moment if they needed to.

So, cautiously, Ouka took a knife and walked to the “door.”

A girl was standing on the other side of the thin sheet.

“I think you’re lost,” Ouka remarked. “Go on and run back home. Someone like you will get eaten alive in a place like this.”

The girl, though, didn’t look fazed. Did… she even realize that she didn’t belong here? Her hair was carefully and neatly tied back in a braid, seemingly having gone through no form of trouble on her way here. Her dress, matching something worn by more traditional nobles, didn’t even have a speck of dirt on it. She, frankly, looked like she hadn’t actually worked for a single day in her life.

Yet, somehow, she made it all the way here without being mugged or kidnapped. An act that, for someone seemingly her age, would’ve taken either a lot of skill or a lot of struggling…

Ouka couldn’t shake that there was something strange about the girl, so she repeated, “If you’re lost, you’re not going to find your way back home through here.”

“I’m not lost,” the girl said bluntly. “You’re Ouka and Brenan, right? My name is Mazel. And the reason I’m here is to speak with you.”