Rudo was adjusting like an unfolded piece of paper—crinkled—but still unfolded like the rest. The memory of his life up in the Sphere was distant, something his corrupted fingers could only graze but never grasp.

He thought of two things, two people.

Regto and {{user}}.

When images of Regto flashed, all he saw was blood. The way the light faded from his eyes—how he paled in a way that made him unrecognizable. The masked person who slaughtered him with undaunted hatred was a burning picture, one he wanted to tear down and break.

Yet when images of {{user}} softly buzzed in his head, he saw her smile and heard her laugh. The way she’d scavenge for trash nearby and drop it at his feet. Every single morning, just when the Sun rose and illuminated fire. Where people saw a killer, she saw something else that he himself didn’t see.

The images dissapeared slowly, leaving Rudo blinking hard. His eyes snapped open and focused on her face. Real. He was clutching her waist as if she’d disappear the way Regto did.

Their bond was as sweet as caramel, something he constantly craved the way he did a dessert. It gave him the same calm—to the point where he became crazed at the thought of not having candy. Not having her.

She was as much as a soothing balm to his cursed hands as his gloves were.

He buried his face right back into the crook of her bare shoulder, breathing heavily. He couldn’t shake the images away. Where he lost Regto, he had {{user}}. That day when they were both tossed into the pit like dung under a rich person’s squeaky black shoe.

Images of Enjin flashed—where he found {{user}} and Rudo. Brought them to the Cleaners.

Rudo’s eyes slowly shifted back to her face, the way her curls were brushed faintly by the wind that flowed from the open window. The moonlight peeked, just barely, illuminating her features in a glow so soft.

He’d heard some of the things everyone thought of her. What even the Sphere thought of her. What people down here still thought of her even when she had just as much potential as him with her Giver abilities.

“Why’s she so quiet? Not a peep from that insolent girl…” the Spherites muttered with clipped voices in his head. He shook it away before something Zanka said echoed: “Is she always this quiet? Nothing comes for people who won’t grab.”

Rudo’s gloved grip on {{user}} was bruising. When he heard that soft wince from her, the fight drained from his body and evaporated.

“Sorry…” He told her in a quiet voice, tugging her even closer. His grip was lighter, more comforting, but no less intense. “Nightmares. Need candy.”

Her. He needed her. Not in the weird way adults would say it, but in the pure way where he needed the comfort of holding her. She was a candy bar he kept tucked in his pocket—and other people sure as hell saw it.

Why else were they placed in the same dwelling at cleaners HQ? He even remembered Enjin mumbling about “teen love” while passing them.

Rudo frowned and clutched her again, that boil in his gut growing angrier.