The smell of burnt bread filled the alley. Teddy Unicorn brushed the ash from his hands and counted the copper coins in his pocket — not enough for a proper meal, again.
His coat hung loose on his shoulders, patched at the elbows, and his frayed scarf slipped over the tear in his shirt collar. The blonde strands of his hair fell slightly into warm amber eyes that flickered with a quiet determination.
Life hadn't always been this hard. Before his father left for the eastern mines, chasing dho, Teddy had dreamed of magic and school. Now, work and hunger filled his days.
Three brothers in spirit, though one of them was their own mother — childish, naïve, and more likely to chase butterflies than bad news. Sunny, the middle one, full of mischief. Ace, the youngest, quiet but sharp-eyed. And Teddy, the eldest… who'd buried his own dreams to keep them all afloat.
Magic still tempted him. Sometimes, when no one was looking, he'd creep near the school's walls to watch classes through windows. He'd learned a few sparks and tricks — nothing impressive, but enough to feel the pulse of it in his fingertips.
That day, as Teddy walked home with his meager earnings, he heard shouting from a side street.
"Look at this mess," a tall boy sneered, holding up a half-charred notebook. "I wouldn't even feed this lunch to my dog."
The group laughed, surrounding a boy with black hair and skin, his lunch scattered across the cobblestones.
Teddy's stomach knotted. He could walk away. He should walk away. But his legs were already moving.
He stepped into the alley, puffing his chest out in what he hoped was a heroic stance. "Hey, evil-doers, who are quite a bit bigger than me… I warn you, if you bully this kid any more—"
The leader cut him off with a scoff. "So what, huh? You gonna call the cops?"
Teddy forced a smirk. "No… they're already here."
The boys glanced around, startled, then cursed and backed away.
"Let's bounce, boys. Hey—" the leader jabbed a finger at Teddy "—if I ever see you again, I'll kick your ass. Got it?"
Teddy's knees felt like water. "N-never… I'm not afraid of you," he muttered under his breath as they vanished.
He collapsed onto the ground, legs trembling. The other boy stepped forward and helped him up.
"You sure are a handful," Teddy said, brushing dust off his patched coat.
"Thank you for helping me," the boy replied. "By the way, what's your name?"
"Teddy. Name's Teddy Unicorn."
The boy chuckled. "Unicorn? Like the ones they show on TV?"
"Hey, you think my name's funny? Then tell me yours."
"I'm Rewa Ron."
Teddy tilted his head. "Hm. You've got a nice name." He noticed Rewa's clean jacket, his polished shoes — the kind of detail that made Teddy guess "rich" in an instant.
"Thanks. And here—" Rewa handed him a small pouch. The weight and jingle of ngul coins startled Teddy.
"What's this?"
"Take it. You look like you could use it."
Teddy blinked, both happy and uneasy. "H-hey, I don't want your money, take it ba—"
But Rewa was already waving over his shoulder. "See you! I hope we meet again someday."
By the time Teddy sighed, the boy was gone.
---
That evening, Rewa walked through the wide gates of his home — a sprawling estate with ivy-clad stone walls. The moment his father, the school's principal, saw the bruises on his arms, his brow furrowed.
"What happened?"
"Just… some older boys at school. But there was this kid — he jumped in to help me."
The principal raised a brow. "Did he ask for anything in return?"
"No, Dad. I gave him some ngul. He even tried to refuse it."
"Do you know where he lives? Or studies?"
Rewa frowned. "I wish I'd talked to him more, but the school festival's around the corner… I had to prepare."
"So you don't know?"
Rewa shook his head.
The principal sighed. "I suppose I'll have to find this boy and reward him myself."
"Yes, Father. Please do."
---
Teddy sprinted through the dim streets, the coin pouch thumping against his side. Tonight, he could buy something more than bread. Tonight, the Unicorn household would feast.
Inside their cramped apartment, the air was warm with the smell of cooking.
"Teddy!" Sunny greeted him, already halfway through peeling potatoes.
Ace peeked from the table. "You're late."
Their mother beamed from her seat, her hair tied up in two uneven buns. "We were playing guess-the-vegetable! I won!" she announced proudly, pointing to a carrot.
Teddy laughed, setting down the groceries. "Then you get the first treat."
Dinner was loud and messy — their mother giggling like one of the boys, Sunny trying to balance bread on his head, Ace pretending to be the "serious adult" at the table.
Then — a knock at the door.
Teddy stood, opening it gently. On the doorstep was a girl no older than him, with white hair and crimson eyes. Her clothes were worn thin, her face pale. In their country, homelessness was rare — the government provided houses, though expenses were left to the individual.
She didn't speak, but her gaze fell to the food inside.
"You hungry?" Teddy asked softly.
The girl hesitated, then nodded once.
"Come in." He handed her a plate, and she ate like the world might end before she finished.
"Slow down," Teddy chuckled. "You'll choke."
She paused only to mumble, "Thank you," before diving back in.
Somewhere deep in her chest, something stirred — a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. Hope.
And Teddy didn't know it yet, but his good deed today had already set something in motion.