The city was louder in the daylight.

Shouts and chatter bounced off the high walls, mixing with music from street performers and the rhythmic clunk of delivery drones overhead. Neon signs blinked half-heartedly in the morning sun, their glow dim against the sky's pale blue.

Nine stayed close to Emilio, her shoulder brushing his arm now and then as they wove through the crowds. Her eyes flicked from face to face, her ears twitching at every raised voice or sudden buzz of static. She couldn't help it — every sound felt like it might be the start of something chasing her again.

"You're stiff," Emilio said, glancing down at her. "Like... super stiff. You okay?"

She hesitated, then gave a faint nod. Not very convincing.

He sighed and steered her gently away from a clunky advertising bot rolling through the street, its screen flashing a grinning mascot for some off-brand soda.

"Let me guess," he said. "You think those metal bugs are gonna pop out of a manhole and drag you off?"

Nine didn't answer — but the slight tension in her grip said enough.

Emilio rubbed the back of his neck. "Look... as long as you don't do that weird glitch-zap thing again, you're fine. WASPs can't track people unless they've got a reason. You fried their sensors. That kinda resets the radar."

She looked up at him, uncertain.

"They're not looking for you anymore," he said, softer now. "You're off the grid. Okay?"

She nodded slowly. It helped a little — but the weight in her chest didn't vanish.

Around them, the central district buzzed with life. Colorful market stalls lined the sidewalks, some selling food that steamed with strange spices, others hawking trinkets, bootleg tech, and clothes in neon plastic bins. Street performers drummed on crates, strummed neon-lit guitars, or danced in LED suits synced to glitch-hop beats.

A humanoid robot wearing a frilly apron spun in place beside a discount fashion store, its voice chirping, "Buy one, get one free! Limited time! Limited time!"

A group of kids darted past, laughing, nearly bumping into Nine. She flinched and stopped short.

Emilio stepped between her and the crowd with practiced ease, his voice calm. "You're good. Just noise. Just people."

Nine nodded again, closer now.

They kept walking.

The buzz of the street softened as they turned a corner and stepped into a quieter side road. The noise of the crowd dulled behind them, replaced by the soft hum of refrigeration units and the faint scent of citrus-scented cleaner.

A small grocery store sat tucked into the block — old signage, peeling paint, but a warm glow spilling from the windows. Emilio pushed the door open with his shoulder. A small bell chimed above them.

Nine followed him inside, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft thud.

Inside, it was cramped but cozy. Wooden crates held stacked fruit and veggies, though some looked a little bruised. Shelves of canned goods, dry rice, and sealed noodle packs lined the aisles. A battered fan clicked in one corner, and faded posters curled along the edges of the walls.

"Yo, Minty!" Emilio called as he stepped past a display of instant soup packets. "I'm grabbing the usual! Gotta restock the bunker!"

From behind the front counter, a figure looked up.

Minty the cat.

She was striking — fur charcoal grey with sharp pink chevron stripes along her ears and tail, glowing like brushstrokes against the dusk of her coat. Her wavy, dark pink hair spilled to one side, partially covering one of her lime green eyes. The other stared right at Nine — bright, slit-pupiled, and curious.

She wore a sleeveless green dress, a light beige apron tied loosely over it, and an olive scarf around her neck. A green gem pendant hung just above the fabric. Her boots were big and a little worn, olive like the scarf, making her look both soft and sturdy — like a florist who could probably wrestle a vending machine.

Her expression was calm, her small pink heart-shaped cheek mark resting just under a raised brow.

"Well hey, Emi," Minty said in a voice that was both smooth and slightly amused. "You know you're outta instant rice when Luxu starts sending you instead of coming himself."

"Yeah, yeah," Emilio said as he ducked into the next aisle, already stuffing a few cans into a basket. "We're running low on everything. I think Cyrus scared off the last delivery bot."

Minty chuckled, then turned her eyes to Nine.

The fox girl froze slightly under the weight of that bright gaze.

"Howdy," Minty said warmly, folding her arms on the counter. "And who's the star-hoodie girl?"

"Huh? Oh—right!" Emilio called from the back. "That's Nine! Just met her yesterday. She's, uh... new to the city. Real new."

Minty raised one brow, eyes still on Nine. "New, huh? Don't see many new folks without creds or company tags around here."

Nine met her gaze and then quickly looked away, unsure what to say.

Minty's tone softened. "Nice to meet you, Nine."

She tilted her head slightly, smile easy but not prying. "You holding up okay since you got here?"

Nine hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of a fruit crate. She didn't quite know how to answer. Her chest still felt tight from earlier, and her head hadn't stopped spinning since the rooftop chase. But Minty's calm demeanor made the words easier to find.

"It's... not too bad," Nine said quietly. "Just... a bit nerve-racking."

Minty gave a small nod. "Fair enough. New places always are."

She slid a piece of gum across the counter toward Nine with a wink. "Here. House policy: first-timers get mint."

Nine blinked at the pun, then gave the smallest laugh — barely more than a breath. But it was real.

Nine slipped the piece of gum into her pocket, still a little shy but grateful for the small gesture.

Just then, Emilio hopped over to the counter, nearly tripping on a loose floorboard. He caught himself with a quick grin and pulled out a crumpled wad of cash.

"Alright, let's get this over with before Luxu texts me again," Emilio muttered, dropping bills onto the counter as he began paying for the assorted cans and packages he'd grabbed.

He jabbered on nervously about some street artist who'd been tagging walls nearby and a rumor about new WASP patrols uptown. Nine tuned most of it out, still trying to steady her thoughts.

Her eyes drifted over to a small paper stand by the counter displaying assorted jewelry—rings, bracelets, and a handful of necklaces. One caught her eye—a delicate green gem pendant, shaped almost exactly like Minty's necklace.

"That looks like yours," Nine said softly, pointing.

Minty's smile deepened, gentle and knowing. "It's on the house."

Nine blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Before Minty could answer, Emilio chimed in, eyes darting from the cash back to Minty. "She means it's a gift. For you."

Minty nodded, folding her hands. "Welcome to the city, Nine. Consider it a little token — something to remind you you're not alone here."

Nine's lips curved into a small, genuine smile. The nervous knot in her chest loosened just a bit.