Alive If

Chapter 8

"I end up kicking his balls. Clean hit. Zero regrets." I finish telling Kai my saga with Hickey von Tramp.

Kai lets out a low whistle, clapping slowly as he leans against the wooden balcony railing. We're both sitting on the floor, our feet dangling above the street below.

"I don't usually hear rants like that," he says, shaking his head, "but that might be the best bloodline-ending story I've ever heard."

"Poor guy," Kai adds with a crooked grin. "He's probably still limping somewhere, plotting your demise."

I laugh, but something in my gut twists. I shake it off.

"Thanks for listening. I really needed it today."I glance over at him, a soft smile tugging at my lips.

"No trouble. I needed a break too." His grin fades. I wait—something's weighing on him.

"I'm just... exhausted. School, work, family stuff." He exhales, shoulders slumping like the weight of everything finally caught up to him.

I nod, gently coaxing the silence to work its magic.

"My dad's never really been around. Mom couldn't raise me alone, so she left me with relatives until I turned fifteen. Then both my parents remarried and tried taking me back, but their new partners wanted nothing to do with me. I ran away. I've been on my own since."

His voice is steady, but his eyes—those don't lie. They're hollow, worn down. Like he's told this story a thousand times just to prove to himself that it's real.

"They didn't look for you?" I ask, my chest tightening.

"They did, but... not for the right reasons. When they found out I was working, they kept calling to ask for money." His tone is more desolate now, almost numb.

His voice goes quiet. "They only remembered me when I became useful."

"You worked hard for that. You shouldn't have to give anything to people who abandoned you. You don't owe them a single cent."

"I know." His voice cracks, small and raw. "But... My mom needs meds. And my dad has a little boy now. He can't keep a job. I thought I could escape, but I'm stuck."

I don't know what to say. But I do know how it feels to love people who leave you anyway. I rub his back, slow and steady, like I would if he were a kid who just wanted someone to sit beside him.

"You're not a bad person, Kai," I say gently. "You're just tired. And still standing. That matters more than you know."

He lifts his head. His eyes glisten.

"Thanks, Fie." Kai's eyes soften, but there's a flicker of something behind them. Regret? Guilt? I look away before I can figure it out.

We stay out until the sun peeks over the horizon like it's eavesdropping.

...

The next morning, we're supposed to have National Service training, but our professor delays it for next week. Freedom!

First order of business: refill our coffee mugs.

"You know," Kai says as we sip, "it's the perfect day for the park. I'd kill to go."

I flinch.

He notices. "Did I say something wrong?" He tilts his head, studying me too long. Something unreadable passes through his eyes.

Sleep-deprived me wants to launch into a TED talk about the word "kill," but I just smile faintly. "No. It's a good idea."

He nods. But I can't shake the unease. I like Kai. He's sweet. But I still can't rule him out. Not when the stakes are this high. Not when someone I love is suffering because of someone I trust.