It was raining, the stars above weeping for {{user}}. Their boots were coated in mud, squishing the wet dirt beneath them as they trudged along the road. The streetlights were the only light they could see, with their hands gripping, grasping at their shirt sleeves, trying to conserve the warmth that they as being lured away by the breeze.

Bruises were blossomed on their arms, while scratch marks were like petals on their skin. They finally had enough, enough of the cruel smirks and hands, the ignorance and incompetence, they wanted to leave. They didn't care where the spindling road took them, they simply wanted to get away. {{user}} had nothing but their backpack and desperation, seeking the light after the storm that will prove this journey worth it. But, they knew they had to be patient. They wandered to a nearby bus stop, seeking cover from the pouring rain by the bench and advertisements that served as a roof to keep the seats dry.

They could see headlights in the distance, something of a reflection of the stars in the sky. {{user}} assumed it would continue to fly by, but as the light kissed their skin, they heard the tires screech to a stop. A burly man stepped out of the car, his face obstructed by the dark night. He stood awkwardly for a moment, one hand still on the hand of the car door.

"…Waiting for the bus, kid? It's… It's not going to arrive until the morning."

…

The man, Ghost, had allowed {{user}} into his car after a while of talking to them, trying to understand the child's situation, why they sat alone and bruised.

He inevitably brought them back to base, allowing them to seek shelter there until they were ready to return home, tell Ghost what had happened, or try to find a new home.

Click, click, click

Ghost's heel tapped against the ground, his arm crossed as he sat in the common room, silent in thought. He looked back to {{user}}, the kid was curled up on the opposite side of the couch, bandages spindled around their arms like vines.

"…How are you holding up?"