s o l o m o n

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Small clouds of deep copper-tinted dust rose from the sand-covered stone of the street as Yusa's rapid footsteps flew over the uneven path. She sprinted as fast as was physically possible for her. Concrete buildings flew by her, matching in color to the ochre street. The night sky gradually appeared above, pushing out the orange of the sun's descent. What had once been a bright day was now serene darkness though the calm from above Yusa did not match her current state. Two pairs of swift moving footsteps trailed behind her, silent. The space between the two figures and Yusa shrank, their faces concealed by sinister masks. The masks themselves were stark white, the eyes were slits, partially opened and angled upwards. Red lines traced the openings of the eyes on the masks and along the mouths, smooth and intricately painted onto the curved canvas.

The foxlike appearance of the masks concealing their faces made the two figures seem less human. More sinister and unmerciful. Yusa couldn't think about what their motives were for following her. She had known that as soon as night fell, the streets would be unsafe for her though she hadn't considered it to this degree. The sun had only set moments before they had aimed their sights on her, she had almost no time to entertain the possibility that she would be hunted immediately as the sky changed its colors. They had caught her off guard, it was pure luck that she had managed to evade their grasp as quickly as she had.

A sharp cramp in her side had developed and, as much as she tried to ignore it, it slowed her down ever so slightly. That was all the Masks needed. Yusa didn't look back, she had no need to, she could feel the grasp of one of the two Masks on her blouse as it flew in the air behind her while she ran. She felt the sharp tug as the hand pulled whatever it could grab onto. Her luck was still pushing as she heard the sound of fabric ripping, the disappearance of the force that pulled her back caused a slight increase in momentum and she was able to maintain the distance between the two and herself.

Instant relief washed her over as she recognized the entry to her grandfather's shop. The wooden door was shut yet Yusa was certain it would not be locked. Her grandfather never went to bed until she was home, anticipating her return by keeping the door unlocked. Yusa rushed past the closed doors that lined up parallel to the streets and, in what felt like less than a second, she grasped the handle and turned. The slam that erupted from the force of the door closing surely rang through the air of the night though she could not care less about disturbing the peace. Immediately once the door shut was it locked. Despite the persistence of the Masks while chasing after her, there was no banging on the door or any sort of fight to break in and after their target. It was odd, that they would simply desist in their efforts, but it wasn't until Yusa peeked between the steel bars in the window that she knew they had not given up. The two Masks stood outside the shop, on the sand-swept road just a few meters away from the door. They were still, eerily silent, no sign that they had ran the same distance as Yusa, at nearly the same speed. While she struggled to recollect her breath, the force of her exertion clearly shown on her, the both of them seemed as though they had been standing in one spot for hours, unbothered.

Yusa pulled the fabric that hung over the lone window of the shop back into place. She could only stare at the pair outside for so long. They watched the shop blankly, their eyes hidden behind the shadows of the masks. Remembering the blouse she now wore was ripped beyond repair, Yusa removed the torn material, baring the white sleeveless undershirt beneath.

The familiar sound of uneven footsteps paired with the wooden thump of a cane came down the stairs leading into the opening of the shop. The pace of the steps seemed frantic though not any faster than normal on account of the need for a cane. The gruff voice of Yusa's grandfather, Ciro, was heard before she saw his face. "Yusa? Are you alright? What happened?" The older man was still dressed in his day clothes, signifying that he had not even gotten ready for bed while his granddaughter was still out.

"Yes, grandfather, I'm fine." She held the thin fabric of the torn blouse in her hands, Ciro's eyes taking notice of its shredded state. "I just ran into a couple... friendly faces." She offered a weak smile to her grandfather, already aware of his suspicions and that her answer was useless.

Ciro's gait was stiff as he headed to the window where Yusa had stood only moments prior. Pulling away the small purple and red patterned curtain, he glanced outside before sharply pulling it back into place to cover the window once again. "What are they doing out there? Yusa, what happened? I should go and—"

"Grandfather, please, I don't think they're going to do anything else. If they planned to, then they would have by now. They want to stand out there, let them. They'll be gone by morning. Please." She pulled on the older man's arm gently, leading him away from the door. "All they did was chase after me, big deal. Running isn't scary." She knew he wouldn't be so brash as to try and actually go out there and face off against the two of them right now. Ciro was an intimidating man, despite his age and current condition however she didn't believe he could handle the odds of the sort of fight that would break out if he went outside. He knew that too and must have expected her to stop him before he reached the door. In his younger days, he might have been more than capable of the pair on, but those days had passed.

"Yusa, they could have done something else if they had caught you. Don't make light of this." The look in his eyes was as severe as his tone and whatever it might be that he hinted at happening if Yusa had not managed to get away. "You should have been home earlier; I don't like that Iyato keeps you so late into the day. He knows how dangerous the streets get at night! I'm going to have a few words for him."

"No, grandfather, please! You'll only piss each other off. I'll talk to him and ask if I can start earlier so I can be home before the sun has set." Yusa rolled the thin red fabric, formerly known as her shirt, around her hand absentmindedly.

He huffed, shifting his weight onto his cane in an attempt to stand comfortably. "I don't see why you need another job. You work here, is that not enough? I can give you longer hours."

"No, it's—" She smiled at his effort to make a joke. "I just like having another job is all. Extra money never hurt."

Her eyes glanced toward the door momentarily. "I think I'm going to get ready for bed. Goodnight, grandfather." Giving Ciro a kiss on the cheek, Yusa departed up the stairs and to their home above the shop.

A larger and similarly patterned red and purple curtain to the one hanging above the window of the shop was tied back and out of the way in the entryway to the stairs, exposing the path upward. Ciro pulled the fabric from its knot, concealing the bottom of the stairs. Staying below in the shop, he took a seat atop a wooden stool that sat behind the counter and next to the window. His cane rested against the stone wall, the golden dragon's head of the handle glinted in the dim, lantern-lit shop.

Ciro folded his arms across his chest. There was no chance he would be able to sleep knowing that those two stood outside, like hunters stalking their prey. Especially after they had gone after his granddaughter. He was a pitiless man, often rigid and strict but the only family he had was Yusa. Someone had gone after his treasure and, even if nothing happened, he felt helpless against their efforts. Calming his mind and going to bed did not seem possible to him so he made himself situated on the stool. Ciro was grateful the worst that had come out of this was a ripped shirt though that did little ease his mind. He was not disappointed in his assumption as he took another look outside the curtain to see the two once more. They had remained in their spots, except now, one of them was squatting down, adamant on making himself comfortable while he waited.

There was a lot unanswered regarding the appearance of the Masks. Where they had come from, who they were, what their intentions were for terrorizing Soledad, nothing had been made known for the months that they had been here. The only thing that was consistent and made certain with these outlaws was their time constraint. They were only out once the sun had set and they disappeared as soon as the sun ascended once again. The reasoning behind this was also never made known.

All Ciro knew for certain was that the night would be over before either of them left the shop again.

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