The two boys ran up and towered over the man. He started to cry hysterically.

            “Is he…crying?” Zenji said.

            “Wait—” Kurinai said. “Now I recognize him.”

            The man looked up, an expression of astonishment ebbing onto his face.

            “Kurinai Masuroto?” The man said.

            “Hajiki. Hajiki Busairu. Son of the Seat of Citizen Affairs. What are you doing here?” Kurinai said.

            “You chased me here, Kurinai!” Hajiki said. Kurinai shrugged in agreement.

            “Wait, is he related to that Master Busai?” Zenji said.

            “No, Master Busai is not of the Honor of Busai. The Busairu family are not connected to him.”

            “Kurinai, why are you chasing me?! You scared me back to the Crystal’s Fall! I thought my father had sent someone to follow me.” Hajiki said, his hat falling off, revealing an older face, compared to the two young boys, that is. Hajiki was about twenty-one years old, a year short of heirship age.

            “We were looking into something.” Kurinai said.

            “Like what?!” Hajiki said. He looked at Zenji. “Who’s this? And why are you dressed in such drab clothing?”

            “This is Zenji, and that’s not important.” Kurinai said.

            “Isn’t it?” Hajiki said.

            “Don’t try and turn this on us. You just picked something up from the Baker. What was it?” Zenji said.

            Hajiki looked at the two, a stunned look coming to his face. “You know about him?” Hajiki said.

            “So, there is something going on?” Kurinai said.

            “Do not get involved!” Hajiki said, emphasizing each word with a slight pause in between.

            “Then why are you involved?” Zenji asked.

            “I…no. I won’t say anything, for all our sakes.” Hajiki said.

            “How about this,” Kurinai started. “We do not tell your father, and you will not tell anyone you saw us.”

            “But—you don’t know how dark this is, how sad it gets.” Hajiki looked down, all other emotions disappearing, dwarfed by sadness.

            “Do you need help? That’s what we’re here for.” Zenji said, smiling.

            “Do you really mean that? Can you help at all?” Hajiki said near tears and hopeless.

            “Of course.” Kurinai said. “We are going to change things and this Baker was our next step.”

            Hajiki looked at them, unconvinced. “I—this is bad stuff, Kurinai. Dark stuff. It’s not something that can be changed so easily.”

The two boys said nothing.

He stared past the boys, face going blank. His eyes began darting around, looking behind his back, this way and that.

“I…” Hajiki started.

Kurinai cleared his throat, staring into Hajiki’s eyes.

Hajiki sank down into the trash heap and sighed, a sliver of hope returning to his face. Then, he said, “Alright. I’ll tell you what I know. But first, can you help me out of this trash heap?”

            Zenji and Kurinai laughed, then Zenji moved the trash away from off Hajiki.

            “A mage. I’m sure that’s useful.”

            “It already has been.” Kurinai said, nodding to the trash-covered heir.

            Hajiki stood, wiping off his hat, then said, “Alright, I don’t know much, but whoever gave you his name was in the know. He’s the Baker. He has delicious pastries, but he also makes…the drug.”

            “Drug? Oh, like the illegal kind?” Zenji asked.

            “Yes.” Hajiki said, then took the pastry he had and opened it up to reveal a bag of dark powder mixed with small leaf pieces all crumpled together.

            “You smoke it in a pike.” Hajiki said. “Just a dab, light it up, and it gives you an incredible feeling. I can’t explain it. It’s called Dragon Smoke.”

            “This is serious.” Kurinai said. “High society is abhorrently against illegal drugs or such things.”

            “Yes, I am aware.” A look of shame came across Hajiki’s face.

            “It is a great dishonor! How did you get into it?” Kurinai asked. Zenji put a hand on Kurinai’s shoulder. He turned to look at Zenji as he shook his head. He gave Zenji a look of confusion.

            “A few friends got a hold of some, but said it was just like any other smoke or pipe powder. They were dead wrong. It hooked and gutted me like a fish the first time and I had to have more. I’m—Kurinai...” The shameful look deepened across his face. “I need it now.” Hajiki looked at the ball of powder wrapped in a cloth. “I look at this and it makes me cringe with horror and anger all mixed into one, makes me mad that I am dishonoring my family and name. But then the memory and desire rip me back and I can’t stop.” A small tear welled on Hajiki’s cheek, then fell towards the ground.

            “Help us get rid of the son-of-a-hog.” Zenji said.
            “Do all of you vegas have a mouth as dirty as yours?” Hajiki said.

            “Refrain from calling him that. He does not like it.” Kurinai said, with a smile on his face. Zenji returned the smile. “How much do you smoke?” Kurinai asked.

            “I’m sure it’s too much.” Hajiki said. “A single smoke is too much. I’ll go through this bag in—uh, two days.”

            “Do you know anything else about the Baker?” Zenji asked.

            “Well, he has five goons working for him in the back. They are constantly cooking the drug up, infusing it with other things I don’t even know, then refining it before selling it. It’s going at a pretty high price. Only the rich can really afford it. Or the truly desperate. I am unfortunately both. I only know that because a friend of mine took me back into the bakery once.”

            “Do you know of any others smoking the drug?” Kurinai asked.

            “Yes, but—” He stopped looking at Kurinai, “It doesn’t matter who they are.”

            Kurinai nodded. “Not yet, anyway. What else do you know?”

            “He ships it out each night after all his personal customers come in and take their part, after paying of course. He’s one of a few bakers that I’ve heard. I don’t know much else.”

            “I’m surprised you knew that much.” Zenji said.

            “Thank you for your help.” Kurinai said.

            “Now…can I have it back?”

            Kurinai looked at the cloth ball in his hand. “How bad?”

            A bead of sweat ran down Hajiki’s forehead and his eyes looked frantic.

            “You’re not going to take it away from me, are you?” Hajiki said, a low panic rising in his voice replacing the shame and sadness.

            Kurinai looked at Zenji. “What should we do?”

            “I don’t know.” Zenji said. “This is a first for me. Even in the gang they didn’t smoke drugs.”

            Kurinai thought for a moment, looking around as he thought. “What if we help you get off this drug?” Kurinai said.

            A look of hope bloomed on Hajiki’s face. “What do I need to do?”

            “You need to let us take you to our hideout.” Kurinai said.

            “It has a cool door.” Zenji said, getting a glare from Kurinai.

            “I can use my abilities as a Mystic to ease you from any reaction to the lack of the drug. But, honestly, I really have no idea what will happen. That is just what I think could work.”

            “I’ll try it. If it means to finally be rid of this, I’ll do it.” Hajiki said.

            “Alright. Follow us.” The two helped Hajiki up and they left the alley, making their way to the shop that sat several miles away.

            “Man, you stink.” Zenji said smiling, getting a glare from Hajiki.

            They arrived at the weathered shop near late afternoon and Zenji unlocked the door with his finger.

            “I wonder if I could lock the door with my mind.” Zenji said, opening the door for the other two, a weakening Hajiki following Kurinai. They sat him down on the ground and laid the bags from Kurinai’s shopping spree over him.

            “I will try to comfort you and put you into a dream state. There, I’ll do my best to keep you in that state until the drug’s pull on you weakens, then I’ll let you out. Please do not resist. It could be extremely painful if you do. Hopefully by morning, you will feel better.”

            Kurinai leaned down and placed a hand on Hajiki’s head and the young man on the verge of adulthood slipped into the dream.

            The two walked into the back room and looked at each other, not sure what to say.

            “Zen, this is a lot.”

            “Yeah it is. Kind of cool, huh?”

            “Do you understand what is going on?” Kurinai said. “We watched people die. Who are these dealers?”

            “People that need to be stopped, Kurinai.” Zenji said, more serious.

            “I know, but—I have no desire to die.”

            “Neither do any other people. That’s life. We have a duty now, to change things. Me and you, we’re like the Push and Pull of change. The Justice and Mercy of this nation. Virtues of the people, of what is right.”

            “Uro’Khar. The ancient melding of Justice and Mercy.”

            “What’s that?”

            “Uro and Khar were two ancient gods that Controlites used to worship after the Fall of the Pheryx’Pan, but no one really does anymore. Uro is the god of Mercy and Khar is the God of Justice. The two together mean Peace in the ancient language. The Virtues actually originated from their religion.”

            “Well, Khar, I suppose we need to bring some of our own Uro’Khar into the world.”

            Kurinai smiled. “If it must be this way, Uro, then so be it. Let there be Peace.”

            The two looked at each other and smiled, then awkwardly looked away.

            “Well, we have secret names now, I guess.” Zenji said.

            “Now, we need a plan.” Kurinai said.

            “Should we just barge in? Swords flashing?”

            “No.” Kurinai said. “Besides, we have no weapons or swords anyway.”

            “Right. So, how about we sneak up on them?” Zenji said.

            “I suppose, but how?”

            “Didn’t Hajiki say something about when the Baker makes shipments? At night after dark sometime, right?” Zenji asked.

            “Yes, he did.”

            “What better time? We take out the men that take the stuff outside, then make our way in.”

            “Yes, but—we have no idea what they can do.”

            “They have no idea what we can do either.” Zenji said, smiling.

            Hajiki squirmed under the bags, groaning somewhat. Kurinai closed his eyes for a moment, face scrunching, then the groaning stopped and Kurinai opened his eyes again.

            “Alright. Tomorrow, we take out the baker.” Kurinai said.

            “Tomorrow, Tokeyama will know Uro’Khar.” Zenji said.

            Kurinai smiled, then said, “For better or for worse.”

            After that, the two settled down against the wall and stared off into space, thinking about the coming night where the first strike of their plan would happen, where the two would take the first real step to changing their country, but also, and more importantly, changing themselves.

            It would be a grueling process. Grueling indeed.