Flameheart | Zuko

THIRTY-THREE

It felt as if Homura had been hit by a boulder the next morning - every inch of her body was in pain due to sleeping all night long at a cramped space - and when she attempted to get up, her joints cracked one by one. She rolled her neck, letting out a small sigh of relief before she stretched - more cracks - and finally, she looked for her sword still worn on her front and then her ring, still on her finger. She ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to smooth it down, with the other hand, searching into her pockets for the money she had gotten in return of the ostrich horse.

It wasn't there.

Alarmed, her eyes wide, Homura searched her other pocket but the money wasn't there either. She searched once more, looking like a lunatic to anyone who looked in her direction but there was no use. The money wasn't there.

She looked back to the place she had fallen asleep but there wasn't any money there. With her anger blazing, Homura let out a low growl and kicked away a rock, sending it tumbling down the path until it was lost from sight. It didn't help her at all and she was still extremely angry but there was nothing she could do about her loss of money. She wasn't even particularly surprised by the result of sleeping at the ground during the night. Just upset something that belonged to her had been stolen. With a sigh, she took the route over to the pub she now worked at. Thankfully, she'd get some money to buy food at the end of the day.

Her day at the pub was uneventful. Zhu, the brother who had won last evening, came to the pub with his group of 'friends' and stayed there for most of the day. A couple of other customers came and went by and she hardly had a break, but she made sure she didn't seem bothered by it - her boss was always nearby, always keeping an eye out for any reason she should be fired - and at the end of the day, she took the Yuan she had worked for and left the shop. She stopped by to take some food on her way along with an apple and then, she took the route back to the place she had decided to stay at.

Homura hummed a low tune under her breath as she walked, eating her food and keeping an eye out for anyone who would wish to steal the last of her food, her apple. She sat down on the ground beside the place she had slept in yesterday, and she was just about to eat her apple when a small head of unruly dark hair peeked in from the wall beside her and sent her a toothy smile.

"There you are, Miss Homura! I thought you had left!"

Chin, the young boy who lived in the house she used to stay at, walked over without wasting a second and sat down right beside her, his dark brown eyes wide, as if he was expecting something. She didn't smile. Instead, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's late, Chin. Won't your parents be worried you're out on your own?"

"Mum won't mind," he shrugged, "besides, I'm not on my own. You're with me." His eyes briefly fell on her apple before he looked away, busying himself with looking at her seathed sword. "Can I take another look at your sword?"

"No, and I hope you never have to take a good look at a sword," she muttered as she looked in the distance. "How was your day, Chin?"

"I played for a while and helped my mother with a few chores," he spoke and as she turned to face him, he hurriedly looked away from her apple. "What did you do? I didn't see you around."

"I went to work," she muttered as she glanced at the apple that suddenly didn't seem so appetizing. She turned to the little boy sitting beside her. "Do you want the apple?"

His face brightened and he instantly grabbed the apple, biting into it with haste. He almost choked and wide-eyed, Homura patted his back as he ate. "Easy, Chin. The apple isn't going anywhere."

"Thank you," he spoke the moment he had finished the apple and with no warning, he jumped in her arms, his little arms around her waist incredibly tight, and she was almost unable to breathe. She froze, her eyes incredibly wide as the boy nuzzled his face in her waist, and slowly, she put her arms around him in return in a rather awkward manner. He seemed to appreciate it, though.