A few footsteps swished through the marred, drying grass of the park, the plod of heavy boots on crisp winter soil. “You kids okay?” A gruff voice made the frigid air tremble. “Wondered what the hell all that fuss was about.”

  Everyone looked up to see a couple unshaven men clad in thick, dirty coats and threadbare beanies shuffling over toward them. A group of four others were gathered around a burning drum hearth a few metres away. The men had ruddy, downcast faces, and these two reeked a little of stale booze, but their eyes were crinkled and kind. They looked of all ages: scruffy youngsters to those well into middle age. The fire cast a unmatched glow over the small streetside park, eerily illuminating a set of broken down and abandoned play equipment: swings with only one chain, a rusted jungle gym, and a see-saw that had snapped down the middle.

  Kinuka seized up a little and clutched Rin’s arm. He shuffled away slightly, sliding his limb from her grasp like a snake. “Yeah, uh. Thanks for the concern. Just a bit of an accident.”

  “I’ll say!” One of the men coughed out a chuckle. “You were screaming bloody murder over there.” He looked about to make a joke out of the situation, but spotted the blood on the street and paused. “Jeez. Injured pretty bad, huh. Y’alright now?”

  Rin averted his eyes, hesitating on the path to tread. Everything had happened so suddenly, and left no trace, that he was far too busy reeling from the event to even try and process reality. He folded both hands over his lap. “I’m fine.”

  “Naw, don’t be like that. You’re white as snow, kid. Here.”

  Rin felt something small hit his chest and slide down his front into his hands. His frigid fingers closed around a bite-size chocolate bar. It was still warm, presumably having been in the man’s pocket. “You’re just giving me this?”

  “Hell, sure. Don’t have a lot, ‘course,” he chuckled, “but it’s the least I can do if I see some kid shivering out here. At least y’all got your friends around, right? That’s always nice to see. We all see far too many young folk traipsing ‘round these parts all by ‘emselves. Damn shame. I hope my son’s got lots of friends like you do…” He trailed off, wistfully.

  Rin peeled the wrapper and chewed on the confection. A glow spread from his cheeks and rippled down his spine. The eerie clamminess along his skin and bones began to recede.

  “Your son?” Kinuka asked. “Don’t you see him?”

  The man’s expression darkened, and his friend took over. “Miyamoto here lost everything after the F-TECH layoffs couple years back. The house took all his savings, everything went down the drain, and they kicked him out when he couldn’t pay. Doesn’t even get to see his kid anymore.”

  “Thass enough, Ueda,” grumbled the man called Miyamoto and stuck both hands in his pockets. “Don’t be getting these kids down with my life story. Hell, you had it even worse.”

  “Guess that’s true.” Ueda scratched his chin.

  “You’re all homeless?” Rin asked, swallowing the mouthful of chocolate.

  “Ain’t it obvious, kid?” Miyamoto leered. “Y’don’t usually see a bunch ‘o fellas huddled around a trash fire for fun, do ya?”

  “Do you think I’m judging you?” The question was impassive.

  The man gave him an odd look. “What kind of question is that? Course I do. Hell, we expect it. Everyone judges you, kid. It’s in their eyes as they pass ya by, the way they look right through ya, the way they pretend as though they ain’t seen ‘nun. They just don’t have the balls to say it.”

  “It’s an honest question.” Rin’s eyes held nothing. “I wasn’t judging at all.”

  An unnerved expression wormed its way across Miyamoto’s brow, the face of someone on the other side of a foggy window. “Yeah, sure you weren’t. Listen, kid, I get it. You don’t need to make me feel better about it, honest. We’re all used to it by—”

  “I’m serious. I asked, as the worst thing you can ever do is assume. The last thing you deserve is that discourtesy.”

  Miyamoto faltered. Rin didn’t elaborate, but stood from the bench and stepped towards them. Kinuka reached for his arm, but at his reassuring look she took it back.

  “All of you guys were working, then?” He asked.

  Miyamoto put a hand on his hip. “Yup. All’us at some point. Pretty respectable jobs too, yannow.” He gesturing around the group. “Couple others from FTECH were laid off same time as me, we stuck together. Proper IT professionals, those guys. Ueda here and Tanaka over there both worked retail. Hell, Miss Yumi even trained as a pharmacist. Can’t find any work nowadays; recession means no-one’s hirin’.” He chuckled. “Guess you kids wouldn’t know much about that yet, huh. Count yourselves lucky—”

  “Don’t assume,” hissed Rin. “And no-one’s willing to rent? No family to stay with?”

  “No such luck.” Ueda sighed. “Most of our families relied on us to provide, so when our support went so did they. My maw didn’t make it past the first winter.” His lip curled. “Course, no-one much cares. Most don’t even look our way, let alone try ‘n say nothing. Pretty revealing, how no-one thinks a damn of you once they’ve tarred you a hobo.”

  “How long have you guys been out here?”

  “Guess most of us have been here a couple years now, not for lack of trying.”

  “No-one’s offered any help?” A few flecks of anger flashed under the tones like sparks catching at scraps of paper.

  “We look after our own. That’s how things work when you ain’t got no safety net. There’s a tent camp not far.” Miyamoto pointed a few streets over, and scratched behind his ear. “Most of us make it just about, but it ain’t nice. I’ve been working odd jobs at a construction site over by that new station they’re building. A couple of the guys are nice enough to lend a hard hat or two, so I’m grateful for the chance. Not contracted, though, so I don’t make much at all.” He gazed wistfully at the stars. “Don’t end up like us, kid.”

  Rin ruminated on his choice of words for a few seconds, then grumbled, “If you want sympathy you’re talking to the wrong guy. Then again, I imagine you’re sick of empty platitudes by now.”

  “Y’ain’t wrong.” Miyamoto folded his arms. “Only so many sorry’s you can take before the word loses all meaning. The sentiment’s appreciated, I guess. None of ‘em understand, but that’s alright. I don’t wish it on anyone.”

  Rin had a fistful of dirt clenched in one hand. Unfolding his fingers, he let it sift through the gaps. “I understand.”

  “Ya think so?” Miyamoto raised an eyebrow. "Your life seems pretty cushy from where I’m standing, bud—”

  “Don’t assume.” Rin shot him a glare. “I understand what it’s like to have no safety net when everything goes to shit. Everything you’ve taken for granted vanishes; you’re plunged in the waters, desperate to stay afloat.”

  Miyamoto and Ueda shared a look. “What the hell’s his deal?” The latter murmured.

  Fortunately Rin was too busy appraising the dishevelled park to take notice. “This place hasn’t been an actual park for years, has it? I remember the local council cut funding for this area a while ago.” He then started making odd shapes with his hands.

  They stared at him, a little perplexed. A couple of their friends started drifting over to join the conversation.

  “Oi, Kinuka,” Rin called back to the bench. “Got some more models for you. You said you had a few more designs in the back, yeah?”

  Kinuka had been listening this entire time. Perking up, she caught onto his drift immediately. “You want me to start taking measurements now?”

  “Yeah, sometime before these gents freeze to death would be great.”

  She pouted and crossed her arms.

  Rin rolled his eyes, and put on a strange, posh impression. “If you would be so kind, Miss Amibari.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  She grinned. “Arms up, you lot. Everyone follow me!” Kinuka waved to the crowd and led them away from the centre of the park. She then started barking orders to Tegata, Juusei and Ruri to fetch all kinds of materials: sheet metal, wood, plastic, leftover fabrics of all kind; whatever they could get their hands on.

  Rin stood in the centre of the park. His third eye gleamed in the darkness, and the boy was gesturing in midair with little pinches and pulls fleshing out an outline model with intricate Framework.

  Miyamoto stayed behind and tapped Rin on the shoulder. “This some kind of game to you, kid? What the hell’re you—”

  “Don’t interrupt me when I’m working.”

  “On what?”

  Rin glared. “Your new house, obviously. Unless you want to spend the rest of your days living in a tent and dying of pneumonia.”

  “New house?” He repeated, incredulous. “What on earth do you—”

  Rin sighed. “Just stand back and watch.”

  Ruri returned a few minutes later carrying a few fresh wooden pallets, some fragments of dry wall, a metal sheet and various assorted materials. Their arms were stacked so full, a stray brick fell over the top and landed on Rin’s toe. The next few minutes were spent with Rin hopping around on one leg, cursing absolutely everything under heaven and earth while he waited for his toe to stop screaming. Hadn’t he suffered enough today? Poor Ruri looked on, mortified.

  Creativity was best forged hot in the crucible of restriction. His materials may have been limited, but his mind absolutely wasn’t. This design had been stewing in the back of his mind for far too long. Concentrated living spaces were a nightmare to conceptualise, especially if each resident was a separate unit. In a family home, everyone shared the space, but not so here. There were a lot more considerations in place when you had to consider everyone’s right to autonomy. Rin had journeyed to an exhibition in Roppongi months ago. An experimental designer flown in from Germany had managed to combine five separate living spaces into the floorspace of only two equivalents by laying them on top of one another. The fire of inspiration burned hot, and the boy’s dark eyes were alight with fervour. There had been six people by that fire. Each of them would be able to live comfortably, live without being on top of one another, yet close enough to provide comfort and support.

  Miyamoto had been watching this dance in utter bewilderment. “You said a house. Wait a sec, are you saying you’re going to build us a house?!” He looked over to the corner of the park. Some impromptu fabric carousels had been erected next to a wall, guarded by some fearsome-looking shadow jackals. The noises of the mystical loom came drifting on behind the curtain. Miyamoto looked back to Rin and had to manually close his own jaw. “I saw what your lady friend did, yannow. I saw her fix your leg like she was darning a shirt.” He took a step back. “Now that, that shit ain’t natural. You kids are something special. Y’got that kinda aura ‘bout you, you get me? Now, if she’s this kind of magic tailor, if she’s fixing my buddies some new fits, does that mean you’re really going to—”

  Rin sighed. “Are you going to keep babbling all night? Or will I have to join the remaining dots for you.”

  Miyamoto’s jaw opened and closed like a guppy. “But I— You got no reason to—” He spluttered several more half-formed protests, before eventually, “Why?”

  Rin’s jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened as the flashes of his fingers furthered in passion. “You had no reason to treat me with that kindness back there, but you still did. You had no reason to give half a shit about me, some random injured kid, but you still did. You came to check on me when I’d just had my leg snapped in two, but you don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything. You knew you couldn’t understand or help after what had just happened, but you still gave me that chocolate so I’d feel better, you utter bastard.” Rin spun and wove and added details to his model, expanding and contracting the visualisation in the space in front. “You think I’m just going to take that lying down, huh? Who the hell do you think you are, treating me that way? Do you think I’m honestly just going to take that kindness and leave? After hearing about how no-one else has even bothered with the decency of treating you like an actual human being after you were forced out of work by the uncaring hand outside your control? Do you think I’d just wish you well with a callous little handwave and leave you all to freeze in the cold and the dark after hearing firsthand about the system that I’ve lived my entire life despising for how it chews up and spits out those who try and live honestly for others? Do you think I’m just going to walk on by like everyone else? Huh?!”

  The design had begun to crystallise in midair, the reference materials populating the outlines.

  “If you don’t have somewhere to live, then be I’ll be damned if I don’t make you one.” Rin’s face was taut with vitriol, froth gathering at the corners of his mouth. “What kind of architect can I claim to be, if I don’t even build one goddamn thing?!” He seized the corners of the design, and expanded it into the space in front. His eyes burned with a dark determination. “I’ll build a way forward for you too.”

  A burst of psychic energy, and a sudden wind swept the grass clean of its leaves. The frames came to life in a rapid crescendo of clangs and crunches, as interlocking parts fused into reality for the first time. In the heart of that destitute park, a new stone foundation stood proud. A avant-garde, three-storey hexagonal tower of plaster, brick and steel stood proud on the ashes.

  The ground floor was glass fronted, a lobby with a central spiralling staircase and two units sectioned off behind. The upper floors extended out beyond the first, providing a natural shade to the room below. The walls were accentuated with windows that opened wide, and bold corners that screamed a loud “FUCK YOU” to any naysayers. External pillars, rising from the earth, braced these overhangs, framing narrow metal balconies that wrapped around the structure. Each upper floor divided into alternating thirds, with each wedge forming a compact, self-contained living unit. These units converged at a central circular atrium, where the coiling staircase ascended to the tower’s peak. The roof followed the natural ridges of the hexagonal design, sloping upward in intricate, tiled patterns to a pointed apex that reached skyward.

  “Construction complete.” Rin stood with both hands on his hips.

  Miyamoto’s jaw had long since hit the floor, and the man was in the lengthy process of winding back his tongue that had fallen out and rolled its way across the ground like a ream of ticket paper. “There’s actually no way.”

  Rin sighed and scratched his head sheepishly. “Listen, don’t get your hopes up. It won’t be actually functional immediately. You’ve still got to liaison with utilities to get it hooked up to running water and the power grid—haven’t quite figured out how to do that myself—but I’ve put all the infrastructure in place to support it.” He listed off his fingers to check he hadn’t missed anything. “Electric cabling, I studied that electrician’s course a while back so hopefully the whole building won’t catch on fire when you turn on a lightswitch; the furniture’s a bit barebones—I’m not very good at carpentry yet; I made some rudimentary mattresses, but you still might need your sleeping bags until you can get actual linen; it’s fully insulated, and the heaters should work once you put some oil in them, and—”

  Miyamoto seized him by the shoulders and shook him back and forth, ecstatic. “You’re a damn miracle worker, kid! Just who the hell are you?!”

  By now all the others had emerged from the makeshift dressing tent adorned in outfits tailor-made to their figures, and looking more refreshed than they had in years. Tegata and Juusei had one of Kinuka’s arms around their shoulders, and supported the weary girl in between. Ruri escorted Granny along with, and everyone stared up in wonder at Rin’s new creation. Remarks of shock and awe accompanied whistles of wonder, along with a few whoops and cheers. A few had already gone to check out the inside.

  “This is beyond any kind of thanks, kid.” Miyamoto grinned from ear to ear. Considerations be damned. What he had just witnessed subverted everything he’d ever known to be real and true. “How the hell are we gonna repay you for—”

  Rin seized the man’s collar, brow furrowed intensely. “Don’t you even dare.”

  Miyamoto froze and released him.

  “Don’t put me on some kind of pedestal. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you owe me anything. You don’t. I don’t need that kind of pressure in my life. I’m already under so much just fighting for it. If you try and pay me for this, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “What the hell’re you saying? I don’t know how, but you and those magic waving hands of yours just built us a whole-ass house! What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Get back to living your lives, however you want.” Rin waved a hand and turned a half step away. “The rest isn’t up to me. Everyone can do something. I’ve done what I can. I can’t fix all your problems. Nice as it would be, I can’t just instantly solve homelessness with my magic hand waving—” he flailed them around, then sighed. “And I won’t, because that’s denying everyone the satisfaction. But you know what I can do? I can build a house. That’s what I can do.” He bit his lip and started walking away. “If everyone did what they could for a sake that wasn’t their own, you all wouldn’t be here in the first place. Makes me sick.”

  Miyamoto lowered his outstretched arm, dumbfounded. His face cycled through every expression under the sun, mouth opening and closing until he settled on something concrete. “Fine then. I won’t praise you to your face, if that’s what ya want. Tell me this, though. It’s the least you owe me, owe us all. What’s your name, kid?”

  “You’ve got more important shit to be thinking about right now.”

  Miyamoto grinned. “Don’t assume, kid.”

  The retreating boy stopped. “Rinkaku Harigane.”

  “Tatsuya Miyamoto.”

  “Take care.”

  “You too, kid.” The man turned on a heel, and they parted ways.

  A thousand gratitudes resounded from the park, but Rin seemed determined to ignore every single one. He approached the rest, but just as he looked about to reconcile, he stuck out his tongue at them all and sauntered with his usual slouch down the street.

  Granny fought hard to keep the deep, creasing smile at bay. “You should take thanks when it’s offered,” she chided. “Or else people won’t bother.”

  “It’s easier that way. I wish they wouldn’t.” Rin punted a can across the road, sighed, then walked over and picked it up. “All I did was repay a kindness. That’s all. End of story. Good night.”

  Tegata shook his head, dumbfounded. Juusei, amazed. Kinuka was in suppressed fits of giggles.

  “Now, Granny,” Rin turned around and leered in slow, deliberate tones. “Have you finished having your senior moment yet? Have you remembered where we’re supposed to be going? Because now not only am I in dire need of some good quality entertainment—” his voice rose to crescendo— “but I am also now hungry!”

  Granny beamed forcibly, and a vein twitched in her forehead. Fear washed over everyone’s faces, and they started backing away.

  “You have five seconds.”

  And they ran.

  Rin is doing what he can.