Ryvan wondered whether Taren seriously wanted him to learn from the game or just needed a second player. Having been home-schooled since age twelve, Ryvan had missed out on most teenage fun, including video games—in the shallow friend circle selected by his parents, a pastime such as gaming was frowned upon.

Luckily, Taren didn’t assume that he had any kind of knowledge and talked him through the game with a patience Ryvan could only admire. “First, you need to enter your name to create a profile. Afterwards, you can select your character.” 

Awkwardly navigating the naming screen, he followed the Crow’s instructions and typed in a random name. Ryan would do; Taren’s profile name was Alexei which wasn’t any more imaginative. 

There also was a third profile and its name took Ryvan by surprise. For a moment, he even forgot that Taren was next to him. Eric, his missing brother’s name. Even though he knew it was just a coincidence, he couldn’t help but select the name, leading him to the profile’s details. 

It was clearly an old profile, its history reaching back several years. This person and Taren must have battled a lot, with victories and defeats seemingly evenly distributed.

The Crow coughed and Ryvan realised what he was doing. “Sorry... I misclicked.”

Next came the character selection. Ryvan wasn’t overly familiar with any of the characters, so he simply picked the one that looked strongest. A muscular guy wearing a red helmet. Taren picked a saucer-eyed pink ball of fluff that seemed to have little in common with him. 

The practice stage was empty and Ryvan listened to Taren’s explanations of the button’s functions. Finally, they started to battle, each time ending with a crushing defeat for Ryvan. 

He closed his eyes and pulled his lips inward. At this pace, it would take him a long time to win and Taren would probably get bored of playing before that. 

“You need to adjust your grip so you have better control. You aren’t using half of the buttons, no wonder you suck.” The Crow reached out and adjusted the position of Ryvan’s controller. 

His hand only briefly touched Ryvan’s but its impact lasted much longer. Electrifying as if Taren was a living battery, its voltage enough to make his heart skip a beat. Ryvan didn’t even notice that he had dropped the controller, earning him a questioning glance from Taren.

“Sorry,” he muttered as the Crow picked up the controller. As Taren reached out, Ryvan could make out a hint of black ink under his sleeves. “You have a tattoo? Can I see it?”

Taren hesitated for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone,” he replied then and removed his cardigan. Underneath, he was wearing a sleeveless black shirt, revealing his muscular arms. But it was the tattoo that fully captivated Ryvan’s attention. 

The image depicted a crow, its wings vividly spread forward and its beak opened wide as if attacking something. Covering almost his entire forearm, the wingtips touched each other on the inside of Taren’s arm. 

“May I?” Ryvan asked, his fingers hovering over the exposed skin. As if afraid the crow would come alive and lash out at him, Ryvan lowered his hand with caution until it touched the tattoo. 

Taren’s skin felt hot under his touch. It took a while for Ryvan to process that the heat originated from his finger as it rested on the other student’s arm like a magnet that had found the opposite pole. Then, like a train on its tracks, his fingers traced the parts of the crow’s silhouette within his reach, starting with its majestic wings to its ferociously stuck out beak. He could feel each of the tiny hairs on Taren’s arms until he reached the part that was smooth. “Is that why they call you the Crow?” 

“Who calls me that?” Taren asked, sounding surprised. He showed no reactions to Ryvan’s touch and even now his arm remained motionless.

“Oh, it’s just a rumour.”

Taren turned around, now fully looking at Ryvan and his voice alarmingly serious. “Who told you?” As his arm moved, Ryvan lost touch of it and their connection broke. 

Ryvan had to suppress the urge to move his hand back. Why was Taren so upset about a nickname that fitted him like a glove? “I... I heard it from my friends.”

“Tell them not to use this name. It doesn’t belong here.”

Although Ryvan was curious about the apparently unwelcome name, he knew he shouldn’t ask any further. A smile formed at the corner of his lips when Taren continued on his own volition. “The Crow was my title in the gang. Once members attain a certain rank, they are honoured with a bird name. It’s supposed to be a status symbol that you should be proud of but in reality, it just means that you belong to the gang until you die.”

Yet Taren was in this room with him, alive, the promise of the tattoo broken. The rumours Ryvan had conveniently ignored flooded back into his mind. Taren was a gang member, he was dangerous. Yet all Ryvan saw was a guy who, for the first time since they had met, looked almost vulnerable. 

Above the crow and just below the elbow, there was a second tattoo. The letter I stylised and with a sword behind it. “Ivory Family,” Taren explained its signification. “We escaped. Those two idiots, Autumn, and me. There was… someone. Someone who said I could have a new life. An honest and ordinary life, just like yours.”

Ryvan wanted to object but didn’t dare to speak. Perhaps he was more ordinary than he had thought. Or perhaps the concept of ordinariness didn’t even exist.