Where Your Core Rests

The wooden window creaked, the person entering through it making a face; old wooden houses were shit from a thief's perspective, always making noise.

"Please just be silent", they asked the house.

It was old, like, really old, survived-the-Second-World-War old, and it looked like it too.

Sweeping an orienting gaze across the room, they were surprised that someone lived here at all.

Everything was dusty to hell and back, covered by white linen cloths and they knew it was a room not used a lot, but did it really have to look like the most cliché attic in existence? It wasn't even an attic to begin with...

Nevermind, they thought, covering their nose with a sleeve, I want to be out of here as fast as possible.

They moved silently, cringing every time the wood seemed to creak underneath their feet and then shifting away carefully, moving to rummage through cupboards, chests and drawers, searching underneath tables, chairs, white cloths and an old bed in the far corner.

There's nothing here - I knew I shouldn't have believed those damn rumours!

When the Fog invaded back in 2012 many people lost a lot of money and fell into poverty, rich people would dramatically claim that they had lost more than them, but really, that wasn't true at all. They all lived in their houses (most of them manors), roofs over their heads, heated rooms, functioning kitchens and bathrooms, with no worries about food and even the ability to still employ some personal, but the fact that this room was left empty for so long and cold enough to show breath in the air - yeah, it should've been obvious.

This homeowner was obviously on the verge of losing those privileges and had to concentrate resources on the really important rooms; there would be nothing left here worth any money.

Sighing, the person backed out from underneath the bed-

BANG

"Ouch!"

-only to hit their head on it, something hitting them on the back to add.

"What the hell??"

Some kind of model ship was lying next to them, split in two - it must have laid on the bed and then slipped out from underneath the covering with the hit.

Damn, they felt really bad about it, someone probably invested a lot of time in making it and then they just broke it like that.

Wait, what's that?

Something shiny was peeking out from the longer part of the model, catching their interest, so they reached out and lifted it up, letting the shiny thing fall into their other hand and... well...fuck?

Now, this particular human wasn't an expert on matters of the Fleet of Fog, they couldn't even identify the model, but they could identify an Union Core if they saw one.

Alright, I'm out, they thought, pocketed the Core (because this was someone's soul and heart and leaving it here to collect dust just seemed cruel) and left through the window they had entered from.

"Fuck this shit, what the fuck", they whisper-shouted repeatedly, collecting the cat waiting outside the premises, bolting home into their shitty little hut, slamming the door and collapsing, cat in lap.

"Luigi holy fuck."

"Mreoww?", Luigi cocked his head, bushy ears on attention and purr rumbling.

They patted their hoodie's stomach pocket: "I just stole a Fog ship, do you know what that means?", he didn't, of course, "either, those rumours were spread on purpose because someone knew it was there and are now coming for us, the Fog's coming for us or, and I really don't think we're going to be that lucky, nothing is gonna happen and we now have a fancy pet rock."

Even the cat seemed sceptical about that. Do you know what didn't help in a stressful situation? An intelligent breed like a Turkish Van cat cocking a non-existing eyebrow at you.

"Ok fine, you sarcastic little shit, how about we go to sleep now and fish tomorrow?"

He seemed very happy about that.

"Yeah yeah ya damn swimming cat, go and serve your clichés."

Luigi left his human's lap, trotting to the old bed and leaping on it, settling into his usual waiting position near the pillow while his friend slipped out of their shoes and jeans into more comfortable pants.

"I'm done", they fell into the bed like a stone, fast asleep, leaving the cat to get the blanket and cover them both.