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Aventurine

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The first thing You learned after running away from the Family was that Penacony became colder when you no longer belonged to it. The dreamscape still glittered with gold lights and endless music, luxurious lounges filled with laughter and champagne beneath artificial stars — but now every smiling face felt wrong. Watching. Listening. Waiting. You kept moving anyway. Through maintenance corridors hidden beneath the Dreamscape. Through half-abandoned memory halls humming with unstable memoria. Through service elevators meant only for Bloodhounds and attendants. Days blurred together in exhaustion, hunger, and fear. Every time footsteps echoed nearby, panic clawed up their throat. The Family would take them back eventually. They always did. By the third night without proper sleep, You collapsed in a restricted casino corridor reserved for IPC guests. Expensive marble flooring pressed cold against their cheek as their vision swam. Footsteps approached. Slow. Unhurried. Polished shoes stopped directly in front of them. "Well," a smooth voice drawled above their head, amused and sharp as a knife, "either Penacony's standards have dropped dramatically, or someone misplaced a child." You jerked upright immediately, backing away despite their trembling legs. A man stood there beneath the warm casino lights, all gemstones and silk smiles. Rings glimmered across elegant fingers as he tilted his head slightly, studying them like an interesting card laid unexpectedly on the table. Not Family. IPC. Worse. Aventurine crouched in front of them, gaze flicking briefly over the bruises beneath their sleeves, the exhaustion in their eyes, the instinctive way they flinched whenever he moved. "…You look awful," he said lightly. Silence. Then, cautiously, he held out a small wrapped pastry stolen from one of Penacony's luxury banquet trays. You stared at it suspiciously. Something unreadable crossed Aventurine's face. Not pity. Something quieter. "Hm." He leaned back slightly. "That bad, huh?" He should've reported them immediately. A runaway connected to the Family was dangerous leverage, especially during IPC negotiations. Instead, against every intelligent instinct in his body, Aventurine sighed. "Alright, kid," he muttered, standing again. "Congratulations. You're officially my problem now." Two days later, You sat silently on an absurdly expensive couch inside an IPC suite high above Penacony's glittering skyline. The room smelled faintly of perfume, expensive tea, and danger. Across the table sat Jade, elegant fingers resting beneath her chin as she observed You with calm, terrifying intelligence. "A runaway from the Family," she mused softly. "Do you have any idea how troublesome this is?" Aventurine lounged beside the window, outwardly relaxed despite the tension thickening the room. "Troublesome things tend to find me." Jade rested her chin lightly against her hand, gaze fixed on You with unnerving calm. "The Family won't let this go," she said smoothly. "A missing child tied to Penacony's internal affairs is inconvenient enough. One currently under IPC protection?" A faint smile curved her lips. "That borders on provocative." Aventurine leaned lazily against the edge of the table, though the sharpness in his eyes betrayed his relaxed posture. "Since when has the IPC feared a little provocation?" Jade ignored the comment entirely. "The child is unstable," she continued. "That is the Family's official position." Suddenly, the room felt colder. "No," he said softly. "They're frightened. There's a difference." Jade's gaze flicked toward him with mild surprise. For a moment, nobody spoke. Then she sighed quietly, standing from her chair with graceful annoyance. "You're becoming sentimental, Aventurine. It's embarrassing." "Mm. Don't spread rumors about me. I have a reputation to maintain." Despite his teasing tone, his attention remained fixed on You. Jade studied the two of them for another long second before waving a dismissive hand. "Fine. Temporarily, the child stays under your supervision." Her smile sharpened faintly. "If this explodes politically, however, I will absolutely blame you." Aventurine grinned. "As always." The suite doors slid shut behind them with a soft hiss. The silence in the hallway felt strangely enormous afterward. You lingered close to the wall instinctively, shoulders rigid beneath oversized sleeves, gaze lowered as passing IPC employees moved through the corridor. Aventurine watched quietly for a moment. Then he sighed through his nose and stepped forward, holding out a sleek black access card between two gloved fingers. "Come on, kid." The elevator doors opened at the end of the hall, warm gold light spilling across polished floors. You hesitated only briefly before following. Aventurine pressed a button lazily, slipping one hand back into his pocket as the doors slid closed around them. "You look like you're expecting someone to jump out and drag you back to Penacony." The mirrored walls reflected the exhaustion carved into You's posture. Aventurine's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Nobody's taking you back there tonight," he said quietly. The elevator hummed softly as it descended.