4 04:- Atra Mixta
Several weeks had passed since Ichiro, Mika, and Orga underwent the grueling Alaya-Vignana System surgery. In the wake of their painful ordeals, Mika had shown an even greater commitment to becoming stronger. He had endured the surgery not just once or twice but three more times, surpassing even Ichiro's resolve.
The little organic pipe coming from their spine was a constant reminder of the trials they had faced. Each day brought new challenges as they adjusted to the changes within them, the nanochips in their spines gradually enhancing their physical capabilities. Despite the physical pain and exhaustion, their determination to protect their makeshift family within CGS remained unwavering.
The repeated surgeries had taken a toll on Mika's body, but he bore the pain silently, his stoic demeanor never faltering. He had become a living testament to the lengths they were willing to go to achieve their goal.
Their training continued, and they honed their newfound abilities. The bond between Ichiro, Mika, and Orga grew stronger, solidified by the shared pain and sacrifice they had endured.
In the unforgiving world of CGS, where danger lurked around every corner, their determination to protect each other and their family would be tested in ways they could not yet imagine.
But for now, they pressed on, their spirits unbroken, their bodies growing stronger with each passing day.
Ichiro POV
The streets of Chryse were alive with activity as Mika and I strolled along, the occasional '90s-era car passing by, a nostalgic contrast to the Mars we had come to know. The city had a colourful rhythm of its own, and even in the midst of our military lives, it was important to take moments like this to remind ourselves of the world outside CGS.
We reached a modest-looking restaurant, the kind of place that was a rarity in our line of work. It seemed almost surreal to be sitting here, away from the harsh training and unforgiving battles that had become our daily routine.
As we settled into a corner table, I couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh. My frustration with the grueling training we endured at CGS weighed on my mind, and I knew Mika could sense it.
"Mika," I began, my voice tinged with weariness, "back at CGS? I mean, we're going through hell right ."
Mika, always stoic and composed, took a sip of water before responding. "Of course, I do. But we made a promise to them, to each other, that we'd become strong enough to protect our family. We have to endure this."
His words were a stark reminder of our shared commitment, and I nodded in agreement, though the weight of our responsibilities still pressed heavily on me. "I just... sometimes it feels like we're getting the worst of it. Biscuit, for example. He's struggling with the training, and they don't go easy on him just because he's new."
Mika's expression remained unchanged, but his eyes held a hint of understanding. "Biscuit's tough. He'll adapt. We all have to if we want to survive in CGS. And Orga, he's doing his best to keep everyone together, to keep us on track."
I managed a faint smile, recognizing the truth in Mika's words. Orga's leadership had been our guiding light through the darkness of our training. "You're right, as always, Mika. We have to trust Orga and the others. They've got our backs just as we have theirs."
Our conversation then turned to a lighter topic – Biscuit, the new friend we had made amidst the rigors of our training. He was still finding his footing within our group, but his determination to improve and his easygoing nature had endeared him to both of us.
"I like Biscuit," I admitted, my smile growing. "He's got a good heart. And he's got a way of lightening the mood, even in the toughest situations."
Mika nodded in agreement. "He's a valuable addition to the team. We need people like him to remind us why we're doing this."
We continued to talk, our voices blending with the murmur of other diners in the restaurant. It felt good to have these moments of respite, to remember that there was more to life than just the harsh reality of CGS...
.
.
.
Mikazuki rose from the table, leaving me with a brief nod and a faint smile. His departure left me to my own thoughts, and I watched as he wandered through the restaurant, lost in his own world.
.
.
As he strolled through the bustling streets of Chryse, cars passing by with an air of nostalgia, he felt a weight on his shoulders. The memories of grueling drills and the unrelenting pursuit of perfection had etched themselves into his mind. He knew he was expected to perform at his best, and he had no intention of falling short.
Lost in thought, he found himself in front of a modest sandwich stall, its simple menu offering a reprieve from the complexities of his world. Mikazuki ordered one of the sandwiches and found a spot on the steps of a nearby store. With practiced ease, he unwrapped his meal and took a bite, savoring the flavors.
As he ate, Mikazuki noticed a subtle movement out of the corner of his eye. A young girl, no older than himself, stood at a distance, her light brown hair tousled, her gaze distant, and her eyes, once lively, now void of any spark. Her bony frame and sunken cheeks spoke of hardship and deprivation.
Mikazuki watched her for a moment, a mixture of curiosity and empathy welling up within him. He finished his sandwich and wiped his hands clean.
"Do you want something to eat?" Mikazuki asked softly, his voice carrying genuine concern.
The girl hesitated, her eyes darting to Mikazuki's face and the surroundings. Her reluctance was palpable, her vulnerability laid bare for all to see. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, unsure of whether to accept his offer.
Just as Mikazuki was about to withdraw and leave, her stomach grumbled audibly, a sound that cut through the surrounding noise like a cry for help. It was a sound he couldn't ignore, a stark reminder of her hunger and need.
Determined to help, Mikazuki turned back to the sandwich stall and bought another one. He returned to the girl and handed it to her more insistently this time. "Just eat," he said gently, his stoic demeanor giving way to a rare display of compassion.
Reluctantly, the girl took the sandwich, her trembling hands betraying her apprehension. She hesitated for a moment longer before taking a small bite. But once she started eating, hunger seemed to overcome her reservations. She devoured the sandwich quickly, as if she hadn't tasted food in days.
When she finally finished, she looked up at Mikazuki with a hint of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Mikazuki nodded, his gaze unwavering. "What's your name?" he asked gently, seeking to understand the girl's story.
The girl hesitated before responding, her voice fragile. "Atra Mixta. I'm an orphan."
Mikazuki nodded again, his empathy deepening as he realized the hardships she must have faced. "I'm Mikazuki. Why were you out here alone, Atra?"
Atra's eyes dropped, and she fidgeted with the corner of the sandwich wrapper. "I used to work at a shop in the slums of Chryse.I did the cleaning up, but the adult workers there... they would constantly bully me. So, I ran away."
[A/N : Hey did Atra knew that she worked in a strip club in original ,I dont think so ]
Mikazuki listened attentively. He understood the harsh realities that some children faced on Mars, having experienced his own share of adversity.
"What are you going to do now?" Mikazuki asked, his voice soft, his eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and determination.
Atra shrugged, her eyes distant as she considered her uncertain future. "I'll try to find a job, I guess. Anything to survive."
Mikazuki didn't hesitate. He knew someone who might be able to help. "Come with me," he said, offering his hand to her. "I know a shopkeeper who might give you a job."
.
.
With a flicker of hope in her eyes, Atra took his hand, and together, they navigated the streets of Chryse, where an unexpected encounter had forged a connection between two young souls, both seeking solace and support in the unforgiving world they called home...
