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He didn’t understand why his parents wouldn’t just let him fight. They were wonderful and loving people, but they could be so frustrating sometimes. A big battle was on its way to their doorstep, and yet all of a sudden, he wasn’t allowed to participate? The absurdity of it boggled the mind.

He jumped up from his couch and paced across the room. There weren’t even any windows to look through, and the walls were all soul-strengthened in order to make sure he stayed put, as well as to conceal his presence from any curious reapers. Sure, it was spacious, having its own den and kitchen and bathroom; and sure, it was filled with all sorts of toys and other things that were obviously meant to keep him distracted, but he just wasn’t in the mood for--

Hold on. Was that a merry-go-round tucked away in the corner? It was a bit small, but he hadn’t been on one of those since he was a kid. Oh, man, he’d have to give his mother a big hug later. That magnificent woman thought of everything.

After a while of unadulterated joy, a ringing noise arrived. Next to the sealed door, Ismael’s face appeared on the monitor embedded in the wall. <“Ibai?”>

He bounded off his mechanical wonder and rushed over. “Hello, Papa! Can I come out yet?”

<“I’m afraid not, mijoro. I just wanted to check in on you. You will need to stay in there for a while yet.”>

“Agh!”

<“I know. But it is for your own safety.”>

“Yes, yes, same old drill. But I want to fight!”

<“I know you do.”>

He groaned again and walked away from the monitor, only to immediately walk back to it. “Okay, fine, no fighting. But still, Papa, there truly is no need to keep me locked up in here. You could send me abroad! Away from all the danger! I would adore a vacation! And I would be perfectly safe!”

<“You know why I can’t do that.”>

“I won’t hurt anyone. I promise. And I won’t cause trouble or attract too much attention, either. I know how important it is to remain hidden.”

<“I wish I could believe you.”>

“But you can! Papa, please! I understand! Believe me! Don’t leave me in here!”

And he saw his father hesitate. A flicker of uncertainty achieved at last. But that was all it was.

<“I am sorry. I will let you out soon.”> And the monitor went dark.

He was alone again. He clicked his lips apart and gave a loud sigh. And then, faintly, he smiled to himself. “Almost convinced you that time, Papa.”

His hand brushed his chin and felt the fresh stubble there. Bah. Facial hair was such a bother. He moved to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. He extended two fingers, and from them, a brown shadow appeared. It formed a small blade, and he began shaving.