*Prologue*
The rustling and bustling of the people in the market-place signified the waking of the day. People trundled along with their wares, keeping a tight grip on the reigns of their horses and the handles of their carts. Any spilled goods would be lost to thieves, and mischievous children.
The town itself was a crowded brown. In fact, everything that came from the commoners had brown in it. Brown clothes, brown carts, brown houses. Even some of the children's faces were smudged brown with dirt. After all, they walked close to the ground, where the dirt from horse and donkey hooves kicked up into their faces, making them squint, sneeze, and cough.
Voices called out among the stands that sat by the side of the village's main road. They shouted to the passerby of what they were selling, and how rare and beautiful their wares were. Half of the things, though, were cheap, useless trinkets, made mostly for children or eccentric old woman.
There were many people doing many things. A young man would pause by a table of jewelry, gazing longingly over the pieces, wondering if he should by one for a girl, and attempt to win her heart. A child would stare hopefully up at an apple, and then to his mother, chin resting on the table's edge, eyes pleading and wide. An old man would laughingly point out a funny object, laughing to his wife over it, fingers running thoughtfully over its designs.
But, as things go, this story isn't about the town, or the things it had to offer.
This is about Ryiiko, the thief.
Chapter 1.
Bare feet pattered over over the dusty ground. A boy was making headway through the village. The feet expertly danced to one side, dodging a cart full of cabbages, and then dodged to the other side, swerving around a young man picking through woman's jewelry.
Long, delicate fingers deftly slipped into the man's leather shoulder-bag as the boy picked out his black, handmade wallet, and he cackled to himself in mischievous triumph. He would later take the money out and toss the wallet. He had no use for it, but to be pick-pocketed by another thief from his own bag.
Today had been a good day. Ryiiko had made off with various articles of clothing, jewels, and food fit for a king. He considered himself to be a prince, looking down on all his "subjects", the villagers, who supplied him with what he needed.
Springing upwards with ease, his fingers caught hold of the edge of a roof, and he pulled himself up. The boy thief used his elbows to drag himself onto it. Once halfway on, he straightened his arms, pulling himself up the rest of the way. His bare feet pressed against the cool, aluminum roofing, which dipped up and down like waves. His feet cleared the edge, slapping down hard on the roof. The moment they hit, he was up and running. Leaping to another roof, and then another, his arms swung at his sides, and he breathed hard, concentrating on not falling.
Another big jump, and he'd gone to another, higher roof.
He ran with one, single destination. His hideout. No one but him knew where it was.
T/S (Time skip)
Laying down what he'd stolen, supplies seemed to endlessly be extracted from his bag, shirt, and pockets. When he finally lay the last item down on the table, Ryiiko stepped backwards, falling onto his bed with a sigh. He let his head flop to the side, and closed his eyes peacefully. Another sigh escaped his lips, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. Ryiiko's eyes were almost hazy, not looking at anything in particular.
After a moment of restful silence, he sat up, and stared into the mirror on the wall opposite him.
A pale face, smudged with dirt stared back at him. Ice-blue eyes seemed to glow, giving his face a sharp, yet delicate look. Stringy, medium-length black hair adorned his head, and long bangs almost covered his eyes. Despite the tired look his face possessed, the mirror also showed an amused smile, and sparkling, mischievous eyes. He certainly had the posture of a prince, and most likely the disposition of one as well.
He finally spoke, but to the reflection in the mirror, complimenting himself, "Well, lookie here, Ryiiko. You're just as dashing and daring as ever. This has been your biggest haul yet." His voice was amused, cocky, "You're a prince, and no one can tell you what to do." Ryiiko told himself, "No one ever could, and no one ever will."
Satisfied with these statements, he stood, swinging his arms up to let his fingers interlock, resting against the back of his head. "Ahhh, well." he remarked leisurely, "Off to bed with you, Prince Ryiiko. Tomorrow's a new day." He walked forward, letting his weight sloppily fall on each foot with every step it took, like how a horse walked. Jauntingly, without a care in the world.
