Sometimes when the mist was heavier than usual, it could make your eyes water. Hikari brushed a couple stray tears off his cheek. He adjusted his mask to fit a little tighter. The misty smog was good cover for Lite-bikes whose bright engines were nearly invisible from a distance. Except you didn’t need a visual to know that the Sonic Pulse Crew was coming. Modifications on their engines made it so the ground rumbled as they approached, serving as a warning to those who dared to roam the streets of their turf.

  Of the twenty-six sectors that divided Arcadia, the Sonic Pulse Crew controlled the higher numbers, which were the newest additions to the city. The higher the number of the sector, the older and more important it became. This also just happened to coordinate with the economic status of the sector. Higher sector numbers had higher Glow trade. Sector One is the Circle, where all the influence lay. There was so much enforcement there, Glow trade was almost impossible. Almost.

  Power and expansion were rich people's problems, Hikari thought. He sat in a dingy alleyway fiddling with a keychain that was attached to his belt. It held the keys to his Lite-bike, but more importantly a small figurine. It was a trinket in the shape of an eye. Instead of a dark pupil at its center, there was a small sample of pure Neon, straight from the flower. It wasn’t processed in a factory, like the Neon that went into his bike’s fuel or like what went into powering the yellow street lamps. Its green glow was much more brilliant and mesmerizing like the stories of the Luminaeon made it seem. It was Hikari’s only keepsake from parents he didn’t remember. The memory of his mother’s hair pressed against his cheek was the only sensory evidence that he had ever had parents. He spent countless hours trying to pull more from that memory to no avail. Only the faint tickle against his face remained. The small eye figure had been left with him. Hikari did not know exactly where it had come from but he knew it was the last thing he had left of them.

  The sounds of the city, sirens and shouts, echoed through the alleyway. A gentle drop of rain landed on Hikari’s forehead and slid down his mask. What was taking them so long? Hikari thought. It was just a routine pick-up meeting. One that they had done thousands of times. He looked up into the sky. Everything was obscured by the musty smog. Hikari assumed that the stars were still out there. He hadn’t seen them since he was a boy. There weren’t too many factories where they were in sector 21. Osaki Neon’s headquarters were in the heart of the Mist in sectors twelve and thirteen. But there was enough Neon production here in 21 to make it a 24-hour mask zone. Wherever there was Neon in Arcadia, smog followed. But there were rumors that people in the Circle didn’t wear masks at all. Stories went around about how there was a surgery that they could all afford that implanted filters deep in their children’s nasal cavities to keep the harmful smog out of their lungs. As if there was even enough smog in the Circle to be worried about it. Hikari didn’t believe those rumors. But it was common knowledge that the Circle was largely safe from the smog for days, sometimes weeks on end. They would be told in advance when it would get to the point where it wasn’t safe to go outside without a mask. Those were called Green Alerts. That was a luxury they didn’t get in 21.

  Something drifted into Hikari’s vision of the smoggy sky. It looked like a plastic bag, only it seemed to move with more purpose. Also, a bag wouldn’t be floating through the rain. Hikari watched it move in circles before realizing it was a butterfly. He had never seen one before and finding anything living in Arcadia that weren’t people or lightning bugs was not an easy task. As the delicate creature drifted down towards Hikari, it came into focus. Its wings were purple, sparkling radiantly when it lined up with the light from the street lamp. It calmly hovered down to where Hikari sat against the wall of the abandoned Koga Bank. He instinctively lifted up his right hand with his index finger extended. As if he had guided it there, the butterfly landed on his finger. Hikari couldn’t help but smile, his facial muscles not familiar with the expression. The city wasn’t so loud for a moment.

  The backdoor to the abandoned bank, which doubled as the Sonics’ garage, swung open violently and Ren stumbled out into the alleyway. The butterfly flew away and landed on the wall, almost blending into the brick. Hikari was so focused on the insect that he almost didn’t notice that Ren’s nose was bleeding profusely down his jacket onto the asphalt. Hikari stood up to help the kid.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I tried to fight Jiro,” he said through a pinched nose. Hikari held the top of his nose to stop the bleeding. “Ow!”

  “Well that’s what you get. What the hell were you thinking? Jiro’s twice your size,” Hikari said, squeezing harder. Ren leaned against the wall, accepting his treatment.

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  “I don’t know, I thought I could prove myself a little bit. You know how he’s always teasing me. And Katsuo is always telling me to stick up for myself,” Ren explained. Hikari rolled his eyes. He made sure Ren didn’t see him do it.

  “So Katsuo put you up to this. Let me guess, he was laughing when Jiro decked you?” Ren avoided the easy answer.

  “Someone laughed…”

  “Katsuo wanted to see if you would actually listen to him.” The bleeding slowed to a trickle. Hikari reached into the cooler that sat next to the door and grabbed a beer. He held the cold can up to Ren’s nose.

  “So he wanted me to get punched?” Ren asked.

  “He was laughing, wasn’t he?” Hikari said. Ren took the can and slid down the wall. He was much shorter and skinnier than anyone else in the group. He wasn’t quite the youngest, but he certainly struggled the most. People like Jiro took upon themselves to make sure they continued to struggle.

  Hikari had a similar experience with a boy called Riku. When Hikari joined the Sonic Pulse Crew, he held the same role that Ren now had: the butt of every joke. Riku was bigger and stronger and seemed to like reminding Hikari of that. Only Hikari never had to prove himself before the Arcadia Police Force dragged the bully away to Rokku Prison where he still sat. After that, Hikari didn’t have too much trouble rising the ranks with Katsuo.

  “He’s just trying to toughen you up. Next time, wait to do something like that when I’m there,” Hikari said.

  “You’re not my mom,” said Ren.

  “No, your mom is in Sector 25 giving herself to the first idiot who looks at her.” Ren bristled at this. Hikari took a deep breath and changed his approach. “I’m just saying that I’m the only one here looking after you. Besides, be glad your mom’s still around.” Wisps of hair tickled Hikari’s cheek again.

  “I know. I won’t be so stupid next time.”

  “Good. Now drink that beer. Fast. You know how hard it is to get those. Katsuo will be sure to break your nose if he finds out you took one,” Hikari said, standing up to get another close look at the butterfly.

  “Aw man, I didn’t even ask for it!” Hikari laughed to himself as the fourteen-year-old struggled to shotgun the can with the keys to his bike. The purple butterfly was drying its wings on the wall. It looked outrageous. Such a rare, beautiful creature on the walls of the ugliest city in the world.

  Ren doubled over, coughing. He crushed the beer can in his hand with an enthusiastic grunt. Hikari didn’t notice. He stood next to him.

  “Woah!” exclaimed Ren, noticing the butterfly. “What is it?”

  “A butterfly, I think.”

  “Wow…”

  The two stood still, completely enamored by the magical being. Hikari’s eyes only lifted to look at Ren who wore an expression of pure bliss.

  “How do you know what a butterfly is? I’ve never seen one.”

  “I don’t know,” Hikari said truthfully. “I just kinda knew.”

  “Wow,” Ren repeated to himself.

  Ren was still just a kid, but Hikari saw his youth more than ever as he stared at the bug. It came to him that Ren was the only other person in the crew that would appreciate a quiet moment like this.

  On cue, Katsuo burst out the door followed by a gaggle of Sonics, all hooting and hollering into the night. Ren stiffened and broke his eyeline away from the butterfly. Jiro emerged and the beer can disappeared behind Ren’s back. Katsuo jumped three feet into the air with his eyes shut and his back arched, screaming at the top of his lungs. He was particularly rowdy this time. He wore his trademark red bandana over his forehead, his spiked hair sticking straight up behind it. He was ready.

  “Come on, Shima!” Katsuo called Hikari, using an exhausted nickname from their childhood. The nickname was a reference to the streak of white hair that went through his black mane. “You don’t need to sulk out here like a little girl, you know.”

  “I volunteered to be look-out,” Hikari said.

  “Then don’t complain about not knowing what’s going on.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Sure you were. Your eyes gave you away, Shima.” His eyes sifted dangerously to Ren, who was still avoiding eye contact. “I see you and the baby here were bonding? Hey, kid!” Katsuo got close to Ren causing him to slink further back against the wall. “Need a shiner to go with that nose of yours?” Hikari grabbed Katsuo’s shoulder and pulled him away more aggressively than he intended.

  “Lay off him,” Hikari said. The flame in Katsuo’s eyes grew. Hikari lowered his voice. “Jiro got him pretty good already.” Hikari was worried he had been pushed a little too far. But he laughed it off and playfully punched Hikari’s shoulder. He turned back to Ren and grinned his crazy grin. Without breaking eye contact with the kid, he lifted his boot and crushed the butterfly where it sat on the wall. Ren flinched. Katsuo smushed the boot further, spreading the butterfly’s guts across the bricks for good measure. When he walked to his bike, Hikari was sure that crazy grin grew wider.