My mom isn't in the habit of opening my door.
There's multiple reasons for that, the first and most obvious one is that she's not here. Yeah, she's not here a lot, just like my father really, both aren't really present.
For my father it's a boon.
Because -The hand around my kunai handle tightens for a simple second before a breath escapes me and I put it on the ground, taking a shuriken instead- I don't really like him.
For my mother however. It's quite the annoyance.
With a giggle, not a grunt, I'm feeling quite happy since I had my fair share of sleep, with said giggle I get up on a closed box of mine, the one filled with armorparts and who's used to keep my door closed tight.
For my mother, it's quite annoying when she's not here. And even if I'm quite glad she's not here to see my spoils and starts worrying, well, it still doesn't change that the reason she's not here is that it's because she's working as a prostitute, so yeah, not that cool.
Tending the wire with two hands is pretty hard, it's a really sharp wire, and I'm worried about cutting myself again. I tried it with a piece of paper, the same kind of paper I stole from my father ages ago, and damn it's sharp. Really sharp, as long as the wire is tended and corded well in a straight line it cuts through pretty much anything. Expections are other sharp things, but throats aren't sharp.
Putting one end of the wire I carefully cut at the necessary size with a trusty kunai on the side of my door, my thoughts keep wondering about what I'm doing.
Setting up a trap.
Look.
I slept well today, or the last days? I don't know really, I kind of slept until my body woke up by itself, no idea how long I slept but fuck it felt good.
And this whole thing just proves that I was right! Listening to my thoughts help!
I freeze. One hand on a three point shuriken, pushing the wire in place while embedding the weapon in the wall.
Okay.
Maybe I shouldn't listen to all my thoughts.
But SOME of my thoughts are pretty damn useful, like they were days ago, okay they caused my insomnia, but they also cured it!
So I'm sure it counts for something.
Some of them are genuinely interesting too.
Some of them talk about how I DESPERATELY need to train with my new magic and my new weapons before shit goes down, some talk about my weird dexterous movement I got when stealing the kunais in the shop and how it's weird that I'm struggling to put up a trap now, some of them talk about the money I got...and my mom.
Ah.
Right
Tending the other part of the wire, hands high above my baby shoulders, another shurikens come just after to stick the wire, to make sure it will cut through any dumb throat that dared to get inside my room without authorization.
Not my mom of course. She never does that.
My dad tho?
A dumb and cute giggle escapes me before my eyes focus on the stash of money on my usual box.
The one covered with the cloak, the one with my books.
I got a lot of ryos now.
I have magic and can steal food.
And my mom is still selling herself while I'm busy setting up traps to satisfy this paranoia of mine.
In this life, if there's one person I care about, that would be my mother.
And It's sad to say, maybe I'm a bad kid, but that's the truth, I wouldn't save her if it means I'll need to show her even an hint of what I can do.
It's just TOO dangerous! She stills have a relationship with my grandfather, and my aunt, and even if she doesn't mean it, a secret could spill out and then they may come for me, and then they're going to try to end me because I wasn't hidden enough, they'll try to use me in the next war and they'll constantly have people be on the lookout for me because people AREN'T dumb and they'll figure out the way to dodge my invisibility trick, and then I'll be alone with only a kunai in my hand and they'll be here, able to see me, with a giant fucking sword in their hands, who'll soon be digging through my chest and pushing up to slice me in half and no matter how I'll fight like a fucking badger this PATHETIC body won't be able to survive and I'll die I'll die and then I'll die but then I'll die and I'm not sure I'll reincarnate again if I die and die but then dying is dy-!
My left shuriken drops down on the ground.
Without much thought, my feet leads me back on the round to grab it and with a bit of focus, I get back up on the box and finish the trap while strengthening my resolve.
I won't help my mother if it gives her any hint of what I can do.
Doesn't mean I won't help her.
Stealing sweets is funny for a while, but I'm not big enough to cook by myself, and I didn't even had the time to enjoy the consistent and tasty food of my mother because shit started to hit the fan before I got my teeth.
And I'm well planning on having a balanced and tasty diet to fuel my growing body.
There's only one person that can do that.
Jumping down from the boxes and turning around to push them tight against the door, I make sure that anyone that tries to force themselves in will need to put in the strength.
Said strength that will transform into momentum when the boxes give in, giving the wire a perfect opportunity to cut through them when they stumble fast into my room.
...
Wait a second. Won't the door protect them since it's a door that gets pushed open?
...
Looking right and left, and some visualization later, my hands get to work on pushing the boxes on the side of my wall and letting the corded wire hang in the middle of the room and above my head.
Better.
That's what happens when you're busy thinking about something else while making a trap.
It's not like what I was thinking about was useless, no, it wasn't.
I need to know if my mom has a pimp, need to remember when she usually leaves the house, need to know her paths when she leaves, know which people to kill and which encounter to manufacture in order to make sure that her change in life looks completly natural and unrelated to her dumb and innocent if a little bit weird son that loves playing under the rain.
I hate the rain.
So it's not useless, far from that. Taking a pouch of ryo that was on my cloak, I turn around and finally focus on something that has been pushing my attention away from everything, between the thoughts, the training, my mom, my father, my grandfather, my weapons, my magic, and my trap.
Well.
I haven't been the most focused of men.
Ignoring the rest of the money that's in my original box, with the books, I just take the pouch, the difference is simple.
Pouch = day to day spending.
Box = life savings from a man that has been a shop owner for decades.
Said shop owner that's still making a mess around. Getting under my blanket/window cover and getting on my tip toes, my eyes look outside, at the street behind my house, and at where the shop owner I stole from has been stopped in his angry rampage by someone I know well.
Well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my actions.