Two weeks had passed since Damian moved into Hundred's house.
The two friends had barely trained during that time. At least, that was what they told themselves. The truth was that neither of them had been in the right state of mind.
Damian spent most of his days at the hospital, sitting beside his mother's bed, waiting for something to change. Some days the nurses said she seemed stable. Other days they said nothing at all, which was worse. The uncertainty never left him, not even when he slept.
Hundred had his own weight to carry. Every morning he helped Tiara around the house before she left for work. Although Suly had received his promotion and apologized, things between him and Tiara were still far from normal. She avoided being alone in the same room as him. Their conversations rarely lasted more than a few words.
Some wounds don't close with an apology. Some simply need time.
Even so, when evening came, everyone gathered around the dinner table. Damian, Hundred, Mimi, and Nana were always there. Suly joined them whenever he got home early enough. The dinners were often quiet, with long silences and unfinished sentences and moments when nobody seemed to know what to say. Yet there was something in it that neither boy could quite name. Something that made it worth showing up every night.
They ate together beneath the same roof, sharing stories when they could and silence when they couldn't. The atmosphere was not always cheerful. But somehow, every night they gathered around that table, the food seemed a little warmer than the night before.
Later that night the two boys settled in for sleep. Damian had gotten used to the mattress on the floor by now, and Hundred took the old bed by the window. The room was dark except for pale moonlight slipping through the curtains, and for a while neither of them spoke. It had been another long day. Damian at the hospital, Hundred managing the house and working through the list of small chores his father kept finding for him.
Sleep refused to come.
Hundred stared at the ceiling. Damian stared at the floor. After a few more minutes of quiet, Hundred glanced over and found his friend still awake. Their eyes met briefly, and Hundred tilted his head toward the door. Damian immediately understood.
A few moments later they were sitting on the front porch. The night air was cool and the neighborhood was quiet. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked once, then everything fell silent again.
Hundred rested his elbows on his knees.
"Damian, I have something to tell you. On the day that..."
"What is it this time?" Damian cut in. "Did another dog bite you?"
Hundred slowly turned his head. "We're very funny tonight, aren't we."
"I'm not the one who gets abused by animals and tells the story with unnecessary detail."
"I thought you liked hearing those stories."
"I changed my mind."
"Fine. I won't tell them anymore."
"Good."
A beat of silence.
Hundred sighed. "But seriously." He leaned back against the wooden railing and looked up at the sky. "That afternoon, the day your house was attacked, I ended up saving a girl from a bandit."
Damian stared at him for a moment. Then he frowned. "Did you hit your head somewhere?"
"AGHH." Hundred grabbed his own hair. "Will you just listen and let me talk, idiot?"
"Fine."
"Finally." He looked back up at the stars. "So. Like I was saying..."
"I ended up saving a girl from a kidnapping, I think. I had to fight a bandit who stabbed me, and I tried to use everything we trained for." Hundred paused. "Turns out I couldn't even scratch him. I got completely humiliated. I could have died that day if the knights hadn't shown up when they did." He let out a slow breath. "And I got lucky on top of that, because the girl was some kind of Ascendant. She healed my wounds with her powers."
Damian looked at him for a moment. "All of that actually happened?"
"Every word." Hundred pointed at the corner of his lip. "I even got a scar to prove it."
Damian glanced at it. "I thought you got that from the neighbor's cat."
Hundred laughed. "I don't remember much about that afternoon, but one thing I remember perfectly. She was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life. Her name was Vanabelle, and she gave me a book as a reward, something about ancient myths and the first Ascendants." He paused. "I still haven't opened it."
"Why not?"
Hundred looked down at his hands for a second. "I was waiting for you. You've been going through a lot, and I didn't want to pressure you into coming back to training, or pull you away from the hospital. It felt wrong to do it without you."
Damian looked at him for a moment, then looked away.
"Where is it?"
"It's hidden somewhere inside. I'll grab it tomorrow if you are free."
The next morning, Damian left for the hospital early, as usual. Tiara had already gone to work, and Suly had left before sunrise. For a while, the house remained quiet, the kind of quiet that never lasted long once the sisters of Damian woke up.
Hundred was in the kitchen when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
Mimi appeared first. Nana followed close behind, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.
The two girls had settled into the house more easily than Hundred expected. The first few days had been difficult. More than once, he had heard them crying late at night when they thought nobody could hear. Quiet cries, Careful cries. The kind children make when they do not want to burden anyone else with their sadness.
But little by little, things had changed. They helped with the laundry without being asked. They kept their corner of the room tidy... And most importantly, they had discovered that Hundred could cook.
"Today," Hundred announced proudly as he lifted the lid from a steaming pot, "you are about to experience Hundred's Special Stew."
The smell immediately filled the kitchen. Rich, warm, and comforting enough to make the whole house feel smaller.
Nana leaned forward with wide eyes.
"Wow. How do you make it?"
Hundred quickly put the lid back on and shook his head. "I'm sorry, little assistant. That information is classified."
He pointed the wooden spoon at both girls. "If either of you invent a recipe impressive enough to catch my attention, then maybe I'll consider a trade."
Nana crossed her arms. "That's not fair."
"Life isn't fair. Stir this."
Without another complaint, she accepted the spoon and started stirring.
Mimi dragged a stool over to the counter and climbed onto it, watching every movement as if she were studying a master craftsman at work. She kept asking questions, and Hundred answered just enough to keep her curious without revealing any actual secrets.
By the time the stew was finished, the three of them were gathered around the kitchen table.
Mimi had already placed the bowls out. Nana had folded the napkins into uneven triangles and seemed extremely proud of the result.
Hundred sat down across from them and waited.
The girls took their first bite.
Mimi's eyes widened immediately. Nana made a noise that was not quite a word.
"When we learn how to cook," Nana declared between bites, "we're making this for Damian every day."
Hundred rested his chin on one hand.
"Is that so?"
"He works hard," Mimi said simply.
Hundred looked at the two girls for a moment before lowering his eyes to his bowl.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "He does."
A knock at the door broke the quiet of the afternoon.
Hundred looked up from the table. Visitors at this hour were rare, which meant it could only be one person. Mimi and Nana had already figured it out before he even stood up, both of them straightening in their seats with the kind of excitement they tried to pretend they weren't feeling.
Hundred opened the door.
Damian stood on the step, looking tired but different somehow. Less heavy than he had been in the mornings lately.
"Hey, finally you're back," Hundred said.
"Yeah." Damian stepped inside. "I'm back. And more determined than ever. It's time to get back to work."
"Sure, sure. But first you're going to sit down and eat my special stew, made with the love and dedication of your two sisters."
Damian glanced past him at Mimi and Nana, who were watching him from the table with barely contained pride.
He looked back at Hundred. "I was already planning to eat, but the way you put it makes me even hungrier."
"Sit down then."
Damian pulled out a chair and sat. Nana immediately pushed a bowl toward him. Mimi watched his face as he took the first spoonful, waiting for a reaction with the focused patience of someone who had worked hard on something and needed to know if it showed.
He looked up. "Did you two help make this?"
"We stirred," Nana said seriously.
"And I folded the napkins," Mimi added.
"Then it tastes better because of you." He took another spoonful. "Obviously."
Hundred sat back down across from him and picked up his spoon again, watching the three of them with an expression he didn't bother to hide.
A little while later, the two of them were in Hundred's room.
Hundred climbed onto his bed and reached up toward the ceiling. The crack that ran from the corner toward the center, the one he stared at every night before sleeping, passed directly above his pillow. Just beside it, where the plaster had lifted slightly at the edge, was a small compartment no one would notice unless they knew to look. He pressed it open and pulled the book out.
Damian's expression changed the moment he saw it.
It was not the kind of book you found in a market stall or borrowed from a neighbor. The cover caught the light in a way that seemed almost deliberate, deep silver with small stones set into the edges that caught the light as Hundred turned it over in his hands. It looked like it belonged in a collection somewhere behind glass, not tucked above a bed in District 14.
"Stories of a Traveler," Damian read from the cover.
The two of them looked at each other. Then Hundred opened it at the place where the pages parted naturally, as if the book had been waiting to be opened there.
Something slid out as he did.
A gold necklace caught the light as it fell into his palm, thin and well made, with a few silver coins threaded between the links. Tucked beside it was a small folded note. Hundred opened it carefully.
For when you reach the great city.
He turned it over. On the back, in smaller handwriting, was a second message.
It said to wear the necklace always. That it was a symbol of Vanabelle's gratitude and that he should never lose it, because its value was beyond what any price could measure.
Hundred sat with it in his hand for a moment without saying anything. The necklace caught the light coming through the curtains and held it.
"She gave you this," Damian said quietly.
"Vanabelle said there were surprises inside." Hundred closed his fingers around the necklace. "I thought she was joking."
"What does it say inside?" Damian asked, leaning over slightly.
Hundred turned to the first page.
"First chapter," he read aloud.
"The paths of a traveler."