? Composed ?
Mira sat upon an old crate, her gaze fixed firmly upon the floor, her jaw clenched tight as though to restrain some bitter thought. A heavy silence lay about them, thick and motionless like dust settling in an abandoned room. Pinch, hesitant, inched forward, reaching out with a gentle tug at her sleeve.
“M-Mira...” he murmured softly.
Without raising her eyes, Mira replied in a low voice, “Yes, Pinch?”
The boy said no more, his wide eyes filled with concern, silently pleading for a sign of comfort. Yet Mira’s countenance remained unmoved, stern and resolute. Across from them, Tonno and Lino exchanged uneasy glances, the tension in the room palpable and unyielding. At last, Lino broke the silence with a forced attempt at levity.
“What’s with the gloomy faces, huh?” he said, striving for cheer. “We’re the cool half of the gang now. The four of us together? Still plenty dangerous.”
Tonno grunted, his expression sour. “I never liked it. It felt wrong from the very start.”
Mira said nothing for a long moment. When at last she spoke, her voice was a soft, pained whisper. “I should’ve never allowed it.”
“We stayed quiet too, Mira,” Tonno said gently. “It’s not all on you.”
“I should’ve fought him that day,”
“No, Mira! We shouldn't fight each other !” Tonno exclaimed.
“Look where it’s gotten us, Tonno!” she snapped.
She shook her head, slow and deliberate. “I knew it would go bad. Told myself I was just being paranoid. That I could control it. Should’ve trusted my gut... Now our name’s being dragged through the MUD!”
Her fist came down on the crate she was sitting on, splintering the wood. The jolt ran up her arm. Everyone else flinched. Pinch wrapped his tiny arms around her waist, trying to comfort in any way he can.
“He was never the same for the last couple o'years.” Lino's tone turned serious. “But something else happened to him recently.”
Mira exhaled slowly, resting a hand on Pinch’s head. “My fight with Alex—the lucky charm kid Pinch stole from—and me admitting defeat… it unsettled him.”
She let the words hang, then added, low and bitter, “Made him think I’m weak. That… that we’d be safer this way—”
"Please, Mira." Lino cut in. "That's his excuse! What part of picking on bystanders is protecting you or us? He wants that!"
Her gaze dropped to the floor, shoulders stiffening. “If only Leo was here…”
The silence thickened.
Tonno’s eyes fixed somewhere far past the walls.
Pinch shifted his weight, staring down at his hands as if they held answers he couldn’t find.
Lino just let out a slow breath through his nose, the kind that carried years of unspoken memories.
Then Mira pushed off the crate, her shadow stretching across the room.
“I’m going to find Zack.”
“To do what?!” Lino demanded, alarm flashing in his eyes.
“Talk again. If that fails... I’ll stop him.”
Her eyes gleamed with a cold fire, and there was no mistaking her resolve.
“Are you serious?” Tonno asked, disbelief thick in his voice.
Lino groaned. “Oh great. The city’s gonna explode.”
“Stop being dramatic, Lino,” she said, brushing off his fears. “I’m not dragging anyone with me. I’ll go alone.”
Pinch gripped her sleeve once more, panic rising in his voice. “No! They’ll hurt you!”
Mira finally looked at him — truly looked — and softened, just a fraction.
She ruffled his hair with a faint, reassuring grin. “Come on... I can take ’em all down. Without breaking a sweat.”
Her tone was light, meant to soothe. But both Lino and Tonno caught the fragile edge beneath the bravado. She knew better than anyone she couldn’t do it alone. The two stepped forward toward the door, eyes fierce and unwavering.
“You don’t get to hog all the glory, madam,” Lino said firmly.
“You’re not doing this alone,” Tonno added. “They’ll gang up on you.”
Mira blinked, surprised by their determination to follow. She hadn’t expected it.
“Vito and Jax alone are tough,” Lino warned. “Add Zack and the rest? You’ll need us.”
She smiled then, proud and grateful. “You guys are the best.”
Turning to Pinch, she said gently, “You stay here, alright?”
Pinch shook his head slowly, pleading with all his heart.
Tonno’s voice cut through, firm. “No, Pinch. Not this time. These guys don’t fight fair.”
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“I... I can bite,” Pinch said seriously, pointing to his mouth as if that proved his point.
All three looked in surprise, then snorted, then burst into light, relieved laughter.
“Mira, can we bring him?” Tonno asked.
“He’s gonna follow us anyway,” Lino added with a knowing smile.
Mira sighed, grinning despite herself. “Alright... but stay close, champ.”
Pinch clenched his fists, nodding fiercely. “Yes!”
The weather shifted. Clouds gathered over the plaza, dimming the light, turning the violin girl’s peaceful crowd into a stage for something darker—her new “audience.”
Noor’s eyes opened slowly while still playing.
She saw them all.
Jax, calm, smirking.
Vito, restless, eager.
Zack, seething beneath a mask of icy composure.
However.
Her bow kept dancing on, every note precise, every movement measured. The boys’ threats left her untouched.
The crowd, the boys—none of it mattered. She played.
Zack and his gang advanced, pressing closer, circling but never stepping beyond the invisible boundary of the crowd’s place.
They were waiting for her to notice. To break. To gasp.
A flicker of fear. A flinch. Anything.
But she did neither.
Eyes closed, deep in her own world—the girl ignored them all, as if their menace didn’t exist.
“Boo! Sucks!” came the first sharp cries.
“What kind of song is that? You’re boring me to sleep!” another taunted.
“You’re better than that!” they urged, their jeers building like a rising tide.
Some stooped to gather small pebbles from the ground, hurling them toward her. A few pinged against the wood of her violin, others grazed her arms or cheeks. But Noor kept on playing.
“Tch,” spat one of the boys, frustrated.
“Did she not notice us?” another whispered.
"Or... she is afraid and pretending to not care?"
Then, with sudden force, Zack hurled not a pebble, but a heavy rock that fit fully in his palm.
It struck Noor’s cheek mid-melody.
No casual toss. A clear, silent command.
"Wow!" Vito laughed.
"Ouch." Jax said, scratching his cheek, as if he felt the impact of the throw.
Noor’s head tilted slightly from the impact of the rock. She stopped playing, lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing the trace away with effortless precision. Her eyes met Zack’s, sharp and unreadable, measured, almost casual. He searched them, looking for a crack, a weakness. But whatever they revealed, it was not what he had expected.
“Finally got your attention!” Vito’s voice cut through the charged silence.
“Alright, violinist, here’s a trick for you. Lift a leg and play for us! That’d be more fun—since your music sucks!”
Noor regarded him without a word, as if weighing the insult, the dare, and the joke all at once.
Then.
Slowly.
She lifted one slender leg, balancing effortlessly with the violin snug against her shoulder. For a heartbeat she sought her equilibrium—and found it. Settling into perfect poise, she resumed playing.
But the melody had changed. Gone was the sad, haunting tune from before.
Now it was different—
Light, joyful, almost teasing.
Jax’s lips parted in astonishment. “She’s actually doing it.”
Vito muttered, incredulous, “This is pissing me off more.”
Zack gritted his teeth. “She is playing us.”
Her bow flew across the strings; her fingers glided along the fingerboard, sharp, confident.
A challenge? A dismissal?
Were they reading the music... or was the music reading them?
Or are they overthinking ?
Not could tell but her.
The boys exchanged uncertain glances, astonished yet confused.
Jax, the quietest of the Red corner kids, grinned slyly. “Alright! Since she is so obedient, I’ve got a new trick!” The crowd fell silent in anticipation, Noor’s music weaving through the tense air.
Then Jax’s voice dropped low:
“Drop your skirt. Let’s see how bold you are.”
A heavy silence.
Then.
"BAUAHAHAHAHA!"
The Red corner boys erupted in raucous and ugly laughter. Vito chuckled darkly. “That was dirty, Jax!”
Zack watched intently, waiting for Noor’s response.
She lowered her leg. Straightened.
Her chin lifted the barest fraction, eyes narrowing until they fixed on Jax. No words. Just a slow, unblinking stare that made the smirk on his lips twitch before returning out of stubbornness.
It was the look someone gives to something rotting in the gutter.
Jax chuckled. “There you go.” His eyes glinted sharper. “I just wanted to see that look on your face.”
Without hesitation, Noor retorted, her voice crisp and cutting,
“How pitiful.”
The jeers faltered for a breath, and Jax’s smirk twitched before stubbornly returning.
“Alright, enough of the theatrics,” Vito growled, stepping forward with a sneer curling his lips. “Let’s do what we came here for.”
He crouched by the violin’s open case, fingers curling around the scattered coins inside. With a careless flick, he tipped their contents into his pouch.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Vito said, mock-politeness dripping from his words. “You’re performing in the Wolves’ territory now.”
That was her morning’s earning. She placed the violin gently on the ground and stepped forward, eyes locked on the pouch.
Vito’s grin widened, eyes gleaming with triumph as he held the pouch just out of reach.
“Uh-uh,” he teased. “Gotta earn it.”
With a casual toss, he flung the pouch to Zack, who caught it smoothly. Zack flicked it to Jax, who snickered and lobbed it back to Vito.
Noor moved steadily, silent, unhurried.
The other kids erupted in mocking cheers.
“Close one! Keep going!”
“Just say the word and we will tickle them for you or something to make it easier!"
“Don't give up! We're rooting for you!”
Then the chants started. Cruel, disguised under support as Noor kept chasing.
“Violin girl! Violin girl! Violin girl!”
The pouch landed once more in Zack’s hands. He prepared to toss again, but before the words could form, her hand shot out like lightning.
A sharp slap landed, heavy with all the weight of her resolve.
Zack staggered back, dropping to one knee. The pouch skittered across the stone.
The plaza froze. Every mouth hung open. Every eye wide.
Even Vito and Jax straightened, their smugness cracking, surprise flashing across their faces.
“Did… she just slap Zack?”
“No way…”
“She's… insane!”
Zack’s jaw tightened, a coiled spring beneath the surface of his icy composure. Every muscle tensed, every eye locked on her. He was terrifying—and she had just hit him, in front of everyone.
Then, without warning, without mercy, without hesitation, he rose.
His fist shot out like a thunderclap, striking with all the force he could muster. The plaza shuddered beneath the impact.
Noor hit the ground, pain blooming across her cheek.
Zack loomed over her, chest heaving, eyes burning. “You little—!” he spat, fury and humiliation tangled together.
A dark bruise formed along her cheek. Blood traced her parted lips.
Jax bent down and grabbed her violin, which she had placed gently aside. “We’ll be taking this too,” he said smoothly.
“No,” Noor replied, firm, certain.
Vito’s smirk deepened. “You gonna stop us?”
“You got the coins. That’s what you came for. That’s enough.”
Vito sneered at the instrument. “You can just buy a new one. This thing is worn out already.”
She didn’t look away. “It still plays. And you still vanish beneath it.”
Zack’s pride already battered and bruised, unable to endure another wound. He snarled low, voice low and final, “Alright, I’ve had enough of that silver tongue.”
Stepping forward, Zack loomed over Noor on the ground, drawing back his leg, preparing to kick.
Noor closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact.
In an instant, a fist collided with Zack’s jaw, sending him staggering sideways before he fell hard to the ground. The circle of boys froze, murmurs and gasps rippling through them like a sudden storm.
Alex stood firm between Noor and Zack, his body taut with readiness, one foot stepped forward, the weight of the punch still lingering in his arm. His eyes fixed unwaveringly on Zack’s fallen form.
“Try that again.”
Thank you for reading :)
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