Under the night sky, Foxy felt calm.

Tomorrow, she wouldn't have to wake up and thinking about the corpses and how to find them. She wouldn't have think about places where other people won't go. Tomorrow, it would be a start for a better life. Was she ready?

It was too sudden. Despite her agreeing with him; it did not make sense. Or maybe she was over thinking. Didn't she want this? She wanted someone to come and trigger a change. And he had.

"This is a nice spot."

Foxy was on her feet, a brick in her hand, ready to throw at the person who had entered her safe place.

He didn't look at her, as usual. But she could recognise him from anywhere.

"Are you following me?" She asked, irritated.

"Yes." The clean man replied.

She didn't expect that answer. She opened her mouth and then closed it shut. She didn't have a response.

"Did I manage to convince you?" He asked after a while of silence. Foxy was tired, so she decided to sit down.

"Yes." Foxy answered honestly.

"I hate this building." The clean man said. "You should have seen how they had designed it. It was ugly. I'd rather that there be slums everywhere in the world than ugly buildings. It's why I decided to buy the land and stop the building from being made. But the damage had be done, right? People had their home taken away."

She nodded.

"I have convinced you. But you have your doubts."

He always had an odd way of having a conversation. There was always two or three conversations happening.

"I cannot trust you." Foxy said.

"Will it help if I say that we will ensure that no harm comes to your people?"

"Are we in danger?" Foxy asked.

"No, not really. But will it help?"

Foxy shrugged. "Maybe."

"Okay, what else?"

She was tired. "It helps if you tell us your name." She tried joking.

"Idris. What else?" He said simply.

"Your name is Idris?" Foxy asked softly.

He turned to look at her. "What do you think?"

"No." She said.

"But you can call me that."

"If you can't trust us to give us your name. Why should we trust you keep our words?"

"Actions; I will act on my words. Tomorrow. You will start to see changes that I promised  you. Till then, don't trust me. No one should trust one another." He said as he came and sat down beside her. He looked around and smiled. "I like this place, peaceful."

She nodded. It was why she liked it too.

"Secluded." She added.

"Let's you think." He said.

She inhaled and there it was; his scent. It comforted her, in an odd way. She hated the effect he had on her.

She looked at him. He didn't have handsome features except for his smile. He had a large forehead. He had pretty eyes though. It did the trick.

"Do you find the Moon ugly?"

"I've never bothered to look."

He smiled at that, "Why don't you?"

"Now?" She asked.

"If you want to."

She looked up, at the night sky. She stood up, in search of the Moon. She left him at her sleeping spot and then found it. It was a full moon. Big, round and silver; with dark spots -- it was not really pretty. But hypnotic, at the same time.

"If I want you to come and live with me. Will you agree, Foxy?" He came to stand beside her. He was looking at her, she knew, but she continued to look at the sky.

She froze. "Why would you?"

"I don't know. I like you. We connect. And you don't belong here." He said.

She turned, and didn't expect the tears in her eyes. Foxy sniffled. "You will take care of me?"

He smiled. "I'm not going to be your father, Foxy. People like us, we are good without guardians or parents. We know how to stay without them. But, I can say that you won't be dissappointed. Does that answer the question?"

She wiped her nose. "No."

Every time those once-in-a-year people came with their cambots. Foxy hoped that someone would see her in their devices and maybe her appearance will make their heart bleed, and someone -- anyone -- would take her away. Because, honestly, deep down inside. Foxy was always scared. She was scared to get raped or killed. Always. It was not a life she wanted to live. She hated the constant fear. She hated the corpses, the filth, and the stale food. She hated that the kitten had to die. She hated that she had to lose her thumb. She hated that all the clean man had to do was give her fresh clothes and basic food to bribe her into submission. She hated that she was so easily impressed by his clean clothes. She hated all this because she deserved better.

All these thoughts and the sudden wave of tiredness made Foxy say. "No, it doesn't. But I will come with you."

It could not be as worse as the slums. Could it?

He smiled. "Go to sleep, Foxy."

He was about to leave. When Foxy did the most abnormal thing. She grabbed his hand. He stopped and looked away.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Of course." He said.

"Can I call you Idris?"

"Or you could give me another name."

"I like Idris." She said.

"Do you like your name?" He asked and then said, "When you think of it. Again, we are no different. Both of us are not telling each other our correct names. You don't know yours and I want to protect mine. But can I tell you something, Foxy, honestly?"

"Yes." She breathed still clutching on to him as if he was her life support.

"I am not a good man. I don't kill. I haven't murdered. But I am not a good man. I have many enemies. Some worse than the others. Will you be handle that?"

"Your enemies?" Foxy asked.

"No." He smiled. "That's my pain to handle. Can you handle living with someone like me?"

"Yes." Foxy said.

Decision made.