ODE TO THE END: A BALLAD OF BROTHERS

CHAPTER 20

ACHIM

"Ugh! It smells!" Naomi whined.

"Welcome to The Alleys, and stop making a face. You already stand out with your clean clothes and that obnoxious hair color," said Achim.

The boy could only wonder what sort of things were in store for them. With arms crossed and a thumb pressing against his lip, he pondered an optimal approach while his careless companion inspected some distant mounds of what used to be a statue. Even now, as the two lingered on the outskirts of a slum, the few that passed peered at Naomi as if she were a flaming torch amid a sea of shadow. A fact that Achim thought problematic.

"Hey Naomi, come here so I can--What're you doing!?"

The dark boy found the sun-kissed girl scaling the ruin by the ivy vines that dressed them. His shouting caused her to lose focus, and she plummeted, plopped, and disappeared beneath a plume of filth. Naomi shouted at him as she dusted off the mess

"Achim! You distracted me! Ugh now I'm all filthy! And my hair..." Naomi patted herself down but the dust stuck. Achim was staring at her. "Is there something on my face," she said.

"A lot, actually," said Achim. She was covered in grime, but it looked oddly appropriate for their surroundings. With pressing lips and a long thought, Achim scooped up a handful of dirt before flinging it into Naomi's face.

"PFFT!! ACHIM," Naomi wailed.

"Relax. You look better like that," said Achim. "You don't stick out as much."

"What's wrong with sticking out," Naomi asked.

As he peppered a bit of filth onto her arms and legs, Achim answered with bitter memories in mind. "Trust me, sometimes you would rather not," he said. "You don't need to take the lead here, Naomi. You're in my world now, and that means there are things that you need to do to protect yourself." Achim held up another clump of dirt and dashed it on Naomi's freckled face. "Like not standing out."

Naomi choked on the sprinkled filth only for her brow to bend. "Are you sure you aren't overreacting? ACHOO!" Naomi blew the dust from her nostrils. "...I know being different isn't always fun, but, to be honest, I don't want to hide anymore."

"Anymore?" Achim inquired.

"Yeah." Naomi's anxiety showed in a pained chuckle. "Bullies," she said. "I...I didn't realize how much they got to me until I met you. Now I feel like I can be myself."

Achim blinked and blushed. "...Whatever," said the scoffing boy, but his application of grime was noticeably gentler. His touch was soft, but his words remained cold stone. "That's sweet and all, but this isn't some play-ground melodrama, Naomi. It's not uncommon for pretty girls like you to disappear. People get hurt out here, so stick close and cover up that frizzy mess you call hair. It draws too much attention."

"Wait, why?!" Naomi rushed to her hair's defense.

"Did you not hear what I just said," Achim replied.

"But my hair is" – The girl paused, and began to caress her silken mane. "I know it isn't all that nice, and I know that I don't really give it the time that it deserves on most days, but no one else has red hair like me and my family." It was a hint of pride Achim had not expected. "Besides, what about you?" Naomi poked fingers into Achim's afro puff. "You have big hair too."

"It's not the size, Naomi. It's the color. I can count on my fingers and toes how many times I've seen a redhead. It isn't a common trait." Achim pulled at her flame kissed spindles. "Even then, your hair is a shade of orange that makes you particularly note-worthy. And that's not even counting your personality. People like to procure those with uncommon assets." Achim gestured to the two-pronged scar that split his left brow into three segments. With a gaze that glowed brighter by the night, the dark boy simply said, "Trust me."