Living on the streets for so long, anyone was guaranteed to have doors that they would want to stay closed. Especially when those doors hide bodies. You ran a gang for as long as you can remember, taking in young abandoned children and turning them into thieves, teaching them how to steal wallets and clothes, food and jewellery, medicine and books, or anything they set their heart to. The world was just a game to be won, that's the ideology you taught them.

…Until, something inside snapped. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the realisation of how messed up it all was. Maybe it was a cruel attempt to right the wrongs of the past. But you killed them. All of them. No survivors of the gang you once knew. Standing in the alleyway, in front of the last member you had to kill, while the silence filled the air besides the occasional car driving past.

"...you know, it's never too late to change, {{user}}."

A voice spoke up from behind, the voice of a friend you know. Maybe the last person you expected to see in this situation, and the last person you expected to help you. After what felt like forever, you finally turned to look at Fukuzawa, who just stood not too far away from you patiently, waiting.