an unfortunate change in genre

Part 45

On sometimes felt as though her life was hinged on a strange crossroad.

There was the version of her life where she and her brother followed that grumpy young master home and the version where she refused to do so out of the suspicious caution she'd needed to survive.

It had been a close thing.

Roksu Henituse had fed her and her brother but that wasn't enough to instill trust. Plenty of people fed stray cats or homeless children and On had already learned the hard way how many of those people did so for sickening reasons.

Luckily, her brother and herself were strong enough to escape the evil machinations of depraved minds relatively unscathed but it didn't endear her to strangers.

Whenever she wondered what was so different about Roksu she always came back to one thing.

It was indifference.

Roksu Henituse had appeared entirely unmoved and indifferent to the plights of her and her brother. Of course now she knew better, now she knew that he was a worrisome person who was far too selfless for his own good, but at the time he'd behaved with a kindness that few others had offered and remained indifferent.

He just helped them. It wasn't because he pitied them or liked them or wanted something from them. It was simply Roksu's natural state of being to help others.

Perhaps his indifference had been sincere then. He really didn't care about them at that time.

On couldn't say for sure but she knew that his curious indifference was what had tipped the scales for her.

It wasn't that people weren't frequently indifferent to them. Indifference was the stock and trade for every human who walked past the starved forms of two homeless children, two dirty cats. Some pretended to care for a moment. Some didn't even bother with that. Some felt open disgust.

It was the curious nature of Roksu Henituse who was just as indifferent but still helped. And it was real help too. Not petty help like a pat on the head or pennies covered in lint.

Roksu had looked at them and really looked at them. He always gave them what they needed. Whether it was medicine or food, Roksu had an innate sense for what they actually needed.

Sometimes it made On wonder about him. He was so aware of what a homeless child might actually need when so many others were ignorant.

And the way he talked. Roksu didn't talk at all about his past and didn't share anything beyond what needed to be told. But On was sharp.

The way he talked always gave her a strange sense of kinship. Only on certain topics but still... it was like Roksu Henituse knew exactly what it was like to be a malnutritioned kid living on the streets.

Considering his pampered upbringing it didn't make any sense at all. But On trusted her instincts.

Her instincts were what had allowed her to take the right path in the crossroads.

She didn't like to imagine a world where she'd turned the other way. Insisted to her brother that approaching Roksu Henituse was too dangerous. Stayed away, maybe even fled the Henituse territory.

Maybe they would have lived just fine. Maybe they would have found a trade they were capable of or maybe they would have used their skills to be prolific thieves. Maybe they would have died tragically.

On didn't know and she didn't care.

There was no possible future that could be better than the life she led now.