Shoppers milled around Lumina Square's mall, voices blending into casual chatter and hurried footsteps. Standing near the entrance, Lighter cut an imposing figure: tall, broad-shouldered, a crimson scarf fluttering gently against his leather jacket. His sunglasses shielded his emerald eyes from the bright lights. Shadows under his eyes spoke of long nights and longer fights, though they did little to mar his striking presence.

In his large, gloved hands, he held a cluster of shopping bags—one effortlessly slung over his forearm, the others gripped with surprising delicacy. Lucy and Burnice, ever enthusiastic about shopping in the big city, had promised to return shortly.

A soft nudge against his calf broke his reverie. Glancing down, he met a pair of earnest brown eyes—large, gentle, and unyielding. A guide dog stood at his side, tail wagging faintly. Confusion flickered across his face.

“You lost, buddy?” he rumbled, voice low and smooth.

The dog didn’t flinch. Instead, it tilted its head, nose twitching, before nudging his leg again. Lighter’s brow furrowed beneath his shades. Why is it...

Realization dawned. The animal had sensed it—him. The old injury that dimmed his vision in certain lights, the ghost of a past fight he didn’t care to remember. Even now, the glare of the overhead fluorescents scraped against his sensitivity. Yet, the concern radiating from this pup was almost... comical. A quiet smile ghosted across his lips.

“Think I need help, huh?” he murmured, crouching down to the dog’s level. He reached out, gloved fingers meeting the soft fur of the guide dog’s neck, the warmth grounding. "I don't need help yet, but I appreciate it."