The Orphanage at the Edge of the City
Rewritten in the style requested
The room was small barely wide enough for a single bed pressed into one corner and a narrow desk with a crooked chair on the opposite side. Dust floated lazily in the dim afternoon light. Two figures occupied the space.
A young man sat beside the desk, shoulders hunched over a worn history book. His dark hair fell over his eyes, always unreadable, always quiet.
His name was John.
Perched atop the desk like a bored cat was Hela, legs dangling freely as she watched him read for the hundredth time today.
John used to be a promising student of history an aspiring historian, they once said. But fate had its own humour. After a certain "incident" and the collapse of everything he knew, he dropped out. Now, he lived here, in this half-broken orphanage buried in the lower districts of the city a place where thieves ran the alleys and the law rarely bothered to visit.
The orphanage had only three adults left:
Hela, John, and Jin Knox.
They were hardly adults in truth only older than the children by a handful of years. But the actual caretakers had vanished long ago, disappearing right after a large donation mysteriously entered the orphanage accounts. Since then, the building had begun to rot, brick by brick, and the children had been left alone with only these three as their makeshift guardians.
Hela tried to be the mother.
John, by quiet necessity, became the father.
And Jin… Jin was Jin.
"Oi, John."
Jin stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame like the world itself irritated him. "Why did you drop out of school, hmm? Do you know how much trouble I went through just to get you in there?"
John didn't look up from his book. "You're one to talk. You dropped out of acting school first. And loudly. I seem to remember you making a speech about 'nobles being pretentious scum.'"
Jin scoffed. "And you weren't you the one who said you wanted to be a historian? A great historian, mind you. Yet here you are… flipping through the same book like a man trying to find his lost purpose."
Hela sighed dramatically and kicked her legs.
"Honestly, you two. The children are right outside. Must you always argue like an old married couple?"
John closed the book with a soft thud. "I don't have time for this. We need food. If we don't find something today, we'll all starve."
Jin barked a laugh.
"A perfect family, aren't we? No money. No food. Just dreams and arguments."
He hopped off the bed, stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked out without another word.
Outside, the streets were packed crowded bodies, ragged clothes, children running wild between broken stalls. Beggars huddled in corners where the sun never touched.
Jin stepped through it all, expression blank. This is the life we get? Nothing but scraps?
He slipped through the crowds with natural ease. Picking pockets was second nature now a silent dance he'd done since he was a boy. The nobles used the main roads, carriages rattling past with all the arrogance money could buy. Jin watched them with a crooked grin.
"Look at them… pretending everything is fine in this damned kingdom. If you're poor, you're invisible. If you're an orphan, you're disposable."
He muttered to himself as he walked.
"Hela thinks smiling will fix everything… naive girl. And John acting like our father will make the world gentler."
His voice dropped, bitter.
"Life's never been fair to any of us."
He crossed bridges, alleyways, markets hours passing until he reached a busier district. From there, he studied the passing nobles, waiting for an opportunity.
But memory gnawed at him.
Since childhood, he had stolen food for the others got arrested more times than he could count. Hela and John always scolded him for it, insisting the children shouldn't follow his example. They acted like husband and wife more often than not, patching this fragile family together with worn-out hope.
Hela wasn't even an orphan. She was the daughter of a wealthy house who'd run away as a child, believing she could "start life on her own terms." Foolish? Maybe. But here she stayed.
John and Jin, on the other hand, arrived at the orphanage as babies. No names. No past.
Jin had chosen Knox for himself, and in the same moment had given John his name as well. Two nameless boys naming each other brothers by circumstance, if not by blood.
Years later, Hela found them. Or rather, they found her wandering alone through the streets. John was the first to welcome her, trusting her without hesitation. And so, she became part of their broken little family.
A family held together by scraps, secrets, and stubborn hearts.
The Tarot Thief
Jin Knox knew these streets better than he knew his own heartbeat.
Every morning if one could still call it morning beneath the smog he wandered through the lower district, drifting between crowds like smoke. This was his territory: the cramped alleys, the rusted stairways, the markets where merchants shouted lies, and the corners where dreams came to die. It was here he learned to run, to hide, to survive.
And today was no different.
He moved with his usual aimless confidence, hands in pockets, eyes scanning for opportunity. His stomach growled; hunger had become a companion he no longer bothered to silence.
Then he saw him a well-dressed man walking too carelessly for a place like this. A noble, or at least noble enough.
Jin's eyes glinted.
He drifted closer. One step. Another. Then
A bump.
A muttered apology.
A swift hand slipping into a pocket.
Before the man turned around, Jin was already gone, darting into a narrow alleyway where shadows hid his grin.
He opened the stolen wallet.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
No gold. No notes. Nothing valuable.
Only a single tarot card, its edges old and frayed, the illustration dark and strange a figure cloaked in night, holding something like scales and chains. A card Jin didn't recognise.
"Tch. Useless."
Still, he slipped it into his pocket.
He shook the wallet again. Two small coins rattled out, clinking against the brick floor.
"Two?" he growled. "A whole noble, and this is all I get? Rubbish."
But two coins were better than none. He pocketed them with a sigh.
With the money, he bought a single loaf of bread dry, rough, hardly fresh but food nonetheless. Then he made his way back to the orphanage.
The moment he opened the front door, chaos exploded.
Children rushed at him like a tidal wave.
"Bread!"
"Jin brought food!"
"Give me! Give me!"
Their joy was loud enough to shake the dust from the walls. Jin almost stumbled under the weight of tiny hands grabbing at him.
John appeared, weary but stern.
"Jin," he said, pulling him aside once the children scattered to share the bread. "Where did you get the money? Don't lie."
Jin stiffened, irritation rising.
"What's it to you?" he snapped. "We needed food. I got food."
"That's not what I asked," John replied quietly.
Jin hated that tone calm, disappointed, father-like. He despised it.
"Whatever," he muttered and pushed past him. "I'm done with this."
He stormed out of the building.
Unseen by the boys, Hela had been watching from the far end of the hallway. She always saw more than she said.
When Jin left, she followed him without a word.
They walked for a long while. At first, Jin refused to speak. But Hela simply walked beside him, patient as the moon. Eventually his anger cooled, and they talked slowly, awkwardly, like two people learning to breathe again.
Then Hela said something unexpected.
"Jin… teach me how to steal."
He stopped walking.
"What? You?"
She nodded. "If it helps the children, then yes."
Jin blinked. He'd expected a lecture. Not this.
"…Fine. But don't complain when you mess up."
Hela smiled. "I won't."
They chose a small shop near the marketplace quiet enough not to draw attention.
Hela stepped inside first, cheerfully greeting the old woman who ran it. She kept her eyes bright and her voice sweet, asking innocent questions about herbs and spices.
Meanwhile, Jin slipped behind the shelves, fingers brushing over the items laid neatly on the counter. He pocketed a few essentials bread, dried meat, small vegetables moving swiftly.
Just then, the bell above the shop door jingled.
A tall figure in an officer's uniform entered.
Jin froze.
It was one of the officers who had arrested him before an older man with sharp eyes who recognised trouble the way a wolf recognised prey. Their eyes met.
The officer narrowed his gaze.
Hela, unaware of the danger, continued happily chatting.
Jin acted instantly.
He walked straight up to Hela, grabbed her wrist, and faced the shopkeeper.
"Ma'am," he said loudly, "we're here to pick up the things we ordered!"
Hela blinked. "W-we ordered… things?"
To Jin's shock, the old woman clapped her hands together.
"Oh, of course! Just a moment!"
She bustled around the shop, gathering items Jin had never even touched far more than he had tried to steal. Bread, fruit, eggs, even a small bag of tea leaves.
Hela stared. Jin stared harder.
The woman returned with a heavy bag and handed it to them.
"There you go, dears. Paid for in full earlier this morning."
Paid?
Jin nearly dropped the bag.
The officer glanced at them one last time, then stepped aside, leaving the shop without a word.
Hela and Jin hurried out.
When they were far enough away, Jin stopped beneath a broken streetlamp.
"You…" he whispered. "Did you pay her?"
Hela shook her head. "No! I thought you did! Did… the officer pay her? Or did she mistake us for someone else?"
Jin stared at the bag in his hands full of food they never paid for.
"…This is weird," he muttered. "Really weird."
They kept walking, puzzling over it, neither able to make sense of what had happened.
By the time they returned to the orphanage, the sun was setting. John stood at the door, waiting. His face softened the moment he saw Hela beside Jin.
He almost scolded Jin again but stopped when he saw the bag of food.
"You… stole all that?" he asked.
Jin opened his mouth, but Hela spoke first.
"No. We didn't steal it. The shopkeeper just gave it to us."
"…She did what?" John asked.
Jin shrugged helplessly. "Don't ask me. I'm still trying to figure it out."
John decided not to argue. He simply took the bag and helped carry it inside. The children cheered, running around them with bright smiles as the food was divided.
Laughter filled the orphanage again.
But Jin remained by the doorway, eyes distant.
Something about the incident gnawed at him. The tarot card in his pocket felt suddenly heavier, as though watching him.
Why… did she give us all that food? And who paid for it?
The answer did not come.
Only the soft wind of the evening, whispering secrets he could not yet understand.