Alphonse awakened to a small hand slapping him on the cheek, just barely able to make out a voice calling his name through the pounding headache and ringing in his ears. He tried to reach up and push the offender away, but the previous night's partying left his limbs disagreeable, only managing to weakly brush his big hands against whoever it was above him. He struggled to open his dry, reddened eyes, the blurry shapes in front of him slowly taking form.

"Whuh... f... I'm up!!" he croaked, sitting up with a great amount of effort. His mattress was empty aside from himself, an indication he'd slept far longer than he meant to.

"Good morning," the other rat in the room said, sounding short and annoyed.

"...Muri?" Alphonse asked, holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the light shining through the window.

Murina let out a single, dry laugh. "And he's alive. Get up. We need to talk," she said, sharply, standing up and leaving the room.

It was an odd experience for the Alley rat. Not only was he alone in the room, but he couldn't hear the normal bustle of his family downstairs. Following Murina, groggily and struggling to keep his balance as he walked down the stairs, he discovered the house to be entirely vacant except for the two of them. No Olivia cooking breakfast, no Stephan and Josie arguing about what television show to watch, no Natalie marching around pretending that she was the maternal head of the household. Bracing himself on any available surface as he went through the room, Alphonse went into the kitchen to fetch a carton of orange juice, which he drank greedily, a good bit of it leaking down the sides of his mouth, before slumping down on one of the couches.

"Where's anyone?" he asked, brow all furrowed. He was unused to being alone in the house, and clearly didn't like the quiet.

Pulling up one of the folding chairs from the kitchen, Murina sat directly in front of him. "I asked Charlotte and Olivia to take the others out to the park for a little while so we could have a meeting," she answered.

Alphonse laughed, though it clearly made his headache worse, his eyes still only partway open. "Yeh? 'At right? Awright, Muri. Whu' y' wanna meet on?"

Murina took in a breath. This was a tense moment for the American. She had seen Alphonse in his native environment, and did not like what she saw. They were standing at a fork in the road, and it was likely her one and only chance to make sure he went down the proper path. "Answer me honestly... do you want to be drafted?" she asked, bluntly.

The hung over rat's face screwed up. "Kinna fuckin' question izzat?"

"A serious one," she said back. "Alfie, I have spent the last month making phone calls, putting together packets and carefully editing your videos to make you look as competent and... ALFIE!!"

Alphonse snorted awake again, having drifted off. "Whu'? I'm listenin'!"

"You'd better be! I've been doing everything in my power to get you ready for the draft, and what have you been doing? Drinking yourself into oblivion, sleeping around, and getting into fights?"

He let out a laugh, his head unsteady atop his shoulders. "Tha's th' Alley, luv."

Murina took in a deep breath, running both hands over her face. "Well it's not the FBA! If you want... if you're not actually willing to put the work in to play on a professional level, then there's no reason for me to spend my time making you seem presentable to the team owners." She sighed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "I came out here to get to know you, your family, and your home town, and now that I do, I'm not convinced you actually want to make the effort to be a professional player."

Alphonse's cobwebs slowly shook loose, the big rat rubbing at his eyes and snorting impatiently. "Whuzzat supposed t' mean?"

"It means, Mr Norwich," Murina put as much snap into the name as she could muster, "That if you're more interested in slugging beer and being a... Biter Boy... then just let me know now. So I can just put your file in my drawer for clients who gave up the rare opportunity they were given."

"You sayin' I ain't serious about the league?" Alphonse shot back, his voice raspy, but his expression serious.

Murina shrugged at him, making a show of it. "You tell me! What am I supposed to think when I see my client nearly getting into fights in the park and laughing with his friends about how many illegitimate pups they have?"

The comment visibly stung Alphonse. It was a struggle for him to stand, his shirtless torso tensing up hard as he planted his hands on his knees and hoisted himself vertical. Once he got his footing, he eyed Murina. "Come wi' me," he grunted, turning and walking into the kitchen.

Curious as to what he could be talking about, Murina followed. Alphonse led her through the small kitchen and down into the same basement that Phillip had angrily emerged from the previous morning. Though she knew there was no reason to be nervous, it was hard to shake an uneasy feeling as she descended the creaky steps into the dark cellar of the Norwich house. Calling it a cellar seemed too generous, it was more like a cave dug out beneath the house and given a cement floor, several dim lights giving the surprisingly spacious room illumination. Murina squinted to get a look at her surroundings, jaw agape once she recognized them.

"...what's this?" she asked.

Alphonse waved his arm groggily, indicating the makeshift home gym. Every piece of equipment looked as though it had been scavanged individually, from the barbells to the bench to the stands to the plates. Everything was rusty and beaten, but it was an impressively sophisticated setup for being under a slum row house. It left Murina with the realization that Alfie was in much better physical shape than would be expected given his surroundings, and this was clearly the reason. She was able to pay for a membership to a commercial gym with new equipment, he'd been forced to assemble one himself.

"Pip an' I put 'is togetha couple years back. D'you know what I do 'ere?" Alphonse said, a grave tone to his voice.

"It... it looks like you work out here."

He shook his head. "I don't just mean in 'ere. I mean 'ere in th' Alley."

Murina suddenly felt uncomfortable, the strength she'd worked up for her previous speeches deflating. "I suppose I don't."

"I know you're back in th' States makin' y' phone calls an' writin' up papers, but I spend every day doin' everythin' I can t' make sure when I step out on 'at court I'm th' best I c'n be."

"Alfie... I didn't..."

He cut her off, sitting down on the bench. "You think I'm some lout drinkin' an' fuckin' around, an' that's fine, but you listen 'ere. The FBA ain't just some party I'm 'opin' to join. Ever since my dad died, I been fightin' t' give my family more 'n just a few scraps f' suppa. Round 'ere, y' lucky t' have enough to put on the table f' th' week. That ain't what my dad wanted. Ain't what I want."

Murina looked at her client. His head was down, shoulders slumped. All the muscle and scar tissue, and yet he seemed almost abashed. She took a deep breath, coughing faintly from the dusty smell of his home gym. "What DO you want, then?"

He shrugged. "T' give 'em what they deserve. A house 'at ain't got a busted boiler, better food on th' table." He snorted out a laugh. "Mebbe even a real table. Look, Muri," he said, eyes up on the black rat. It was a more genuine look than she'd ever seen from him. "I can't fix y' pipes like Pip, I dunno how t' play drums like Terry, but I can play basketball. I can play better'n anyone I've ever met. It's th' only thing I ever been good at, only thing I ever loved doin'. Back in grade school, they always told me I could be somebody wit' it."

Murina wasn't sure exactly how to respond. . She sat down on the bench beside Alphonse, in what little space there was. "And you can. But you can't go out drinking and fighting all the time if you want to get into the league."

Alfie snorted, shaking his head. "That ain't an every day thing. Was just lookin' t' show you a good time, Muri. I saw 'ow you lot live. Out 'ere in th' Alley all we got's each otha. It's drinkin' an' fightin' t' YOU, but t' us it's bein' togetha. Spillin' blood wit' your mates, sharin' a drink, that's a bond y' can't get at any fancy-tail eat-in."

"...even so, do you see my concern? I want you to have a long and successful career, if you broke your ankle out at some party, that would be the end of it. No contract, no career, no money for your family."

He picked his head up, his previous overconfidence shed. For a brief moment, the face seen in his old school photo shone through, reminding Murina that he was only barely old enough to get into an American bar. "D'you think I c'n get in? True?"

Murina smiled at him, genuinely, for the first time since she'd arrived. "After your performance at Harvaardwak, I think they'd be crazy to pass you up."

Alphonse grinned. "Glad I got a rat on th' inside. I know 'ose nonnies never woulda given me th' chance. Thank you."

"Well, we murines have to look out for each other," Muri said, overlooking the specist slur for now.

The two of them walked back upstairs, where Murina put together a meager meal for the pair of them. She did little cooking for more than herself back in Boston, but with some help she managed some eggs and toast for herself and Alfie. He ate voraciously, hoping to soak up the alcohol from the night before, while she nibbled far more gently at her fare.

"What now?" Alfie asked, through a mouthful.

"Now? I go back and tell everyone that I know that Alphonse Norwich IV is serious about playing in the Furry Basketball Association. I tell them that I spent three days with him and his family, that he showed that he was ready for the big leagues, and that I'm ready to put my full confidence behind him."

The big Alley rat nodded, finishing his fried-up meal. "C'n I still go out wit' my mates?" he asked, the question not colored with his usual sarcasm.

"I'd expect nothing less from you, Alfie."

The two of them continued going over the finer points of Murina's expectations for Alphonse. She showed him pictures on her oPad of the draft procedure, the well-dressed candidates sitting and watching, smiling and shaking hands with the owners and managers of the teams they were selected to play on. The brown rat's nose wrinkled in distaste, but reluctantly assured her that he would play nice when the time came for him. She even let him watch the edited video of his performance against the Boston students, which he insisted on replaying several times, hooting and laughing each time through. Murina let him fiddle with the oPad, showing him how to zoom in on himself during especially dramatic plays.

By then, the Norwich family had started to trickle back into the house. Murina had asked for them to give her enough time to have a talk with the eldest son, but hadn't specified how long it would take. Fortunately, the family's guess was nearly on the money, the large litter of rats shuffling into the house after Murina had reassured herself that her client was ready to make the transition from Biter Boy to professional athlete. It certainly wouldn't be an easy move, but for the first time since she'd first told Harris that she was taking him on, Murina had a feeling of confidence that Alphonse was ready for the challenge.

Just as Richter Rozich had reported, taxis were hesitant to make the journey into the Alley to pick up a passenger, and so Phillip agreed to drive Murina back to her hotel room. The Norwich goodbye was an event unto itself, with the entire family wanting to give the black rat a sending off. She thanked them all for their hospitality before climbing into the car with Phillip and heading back. Alfie watched her go, standing out on the front walk while the car faded off into the distance, his eyes locked on the rear bumper before it went out of view at the turn into Toxteth proper.

"Y'know," Terrence said beside him, his hands in his pockets. "I 'ope you're ready f' this."

Alphonse snorted. "What makes y' think I ain't?"

Terrence shrugged. "Not talkin' about playin' shows 'ere in th' Alley or showin' 'em Sluggos who's got th' park. This is th' big time. Goin' 'cross th' pond an' playin' for th' world." He turned his head to look at his big brother. "I know y' can do it. D' you?"

The older Norwich gave out a typical snicker, turning and slapping the younger rat on the chest. "I just 'ope they're ready f' ME," he said, voice brimming with his usual cockiness, before heading into the house. Terrence laughed, shaking his head at Alfie. He didn't doubt Alphonse's sincerity for a second, but Terry did wonder if he really was ready for the pressures that would be put on him in the FBA. It wasn't the first time an Alley rat had gotten it in his head that he would take the world by storm, but it might be the first time one succeeded. For so long, the world had seen Rat Alley as a den of criminals and gangsters. Maybe, for once, the story would be different.

---

The cabin in first class was barely filled when Murina boarded, the feeling of a reasonably roomy airline seat comforting and familiar to her. Her trip had been an exercise in discomfort, but she was rewarded with more insight than she ever expected to get in one visit. Certainly insight into realities she could not possibly have imagined. Where some fears were abated, others took their place, and she felt those fears hard to shake, even as she was on her way back to her upscale loft and predictable routine.

But she got what she came for. Not just assurance, but proof that Alphonse Norwich IV was taking the leap in earnest, despite some very real and deserving doubts on her part and her colleagues back home. Most importantly, she was leaving with renewed confidence, if not shrewdly reserved. Raw material was the nicest way Muri could describe Alfie, for all his flaws and for all his strengths and the potential it hinted at. It was the challenge she was looking for. A real chance to turn someone’s life around who would have otherwise been consumed and forgotten in that alley. A chance to prove to herself and to Harris…

“Harris!” she spat like a curse under her breath. Since the short call from the bar, she had not had the time to call him as she had promised. Or perhaps she was afraid to, knowing full well he would sniff out her deception as she glossed over the more unpleasant parts of her trip. Nonetheless, with faith tentatively restored, she reached for her phone buried deep within her bag, bent on quickly putting him at ease before the plane departed. She hissed as though pinched when she saw the number of missed messages, glossing over them all to speed dial her colleague.

“Hello?”

Muri had expected Harris’s first words to be shouted, chastising her for not calling, cutting her down with a quip dropping the ball. His simple and unemotional “hello” was disturbing for some reason.

“Harris?” she asked as if expecting it to have been a wrong number.

“Yes?” The single word stunned her again to partial silence, mouth open to respond but absent any.

“Um… you called me?” It was the best she could do. By now Harris would have gotten his dry witted blows in, she would have laughed them off and they would have gotten down to business. She was unsure how to proceed besides stating the obvious.

“Yes, yes I did. Where were you?” His voice was still flat, lacking the sarcasm that only she could notice and replaced with a certain weight and seriousness.

“ Where did you think I was?” she retorted, the same flat tone creeping into her voice, wholly annoyed by his subdued manner. She continued before it could get out of hand. “The Alley. Sorry, I spent so much time there, and the reception down there is so bad that--”

“And where were you last night?” The look on her face changed suddenly. She wasn’t sure what Harris was trying to insinuate, but she was not pleased with where the line of questioning was leading. She wanted to yell “None of your business!” and hang up to leave this fight until she returned to the states, but thought better of it.

“I was was with the Norwich family,” she said tiredly, pressing her fingers into the ache between her brows, “I had to stay over late. I didn’t get back until--”

“I called your hotel. They said you hadn’t been in since the night before,” he interrupted her again, the look of irritation tightening on her face. It was like Harris to worry, but the thorough chastising she was receiving was beyond what she was willing to tolerate from him.

“Harris, I’m sorry if you wasted a few international phone calls but you’re not--”

“And when I couldn’t get ahold of you for the tenth time, I looked into reports coming out of Toxteth just in case,” he derailed her once more, his voice elevating, but still void of his usual wit. “And you know what I found?” Muri stayed quiet, knowing he would get to the point quicker without her to interrupt.

“Assault and robbery reported on the outskirts of Rat Alley. Female, but no species given.” His tone alluded to an obvious conclusion. Under normal circumstances, the connection would have been a stretch, just wild worry-fueled conjecture. But as Muri pondered back to that night, the sheer amount of Alley rats, the unapologetic abhorrence they had for outsiders, their apparent hair trigger leap, and somewhat gleeful attraction, to violence. It wasn’t as big a stretch as it seemed. But, Muri needed Harris to believe otherwise.

“And you thought that was me?” she let her voice fluctuate behind a short laugh, hoping to hide her nervousness.

“What was I supposed to think? Muri, you are a god damned professional! You don’t just fall off the grid like that!” The yelling she expected had begun, taking the dressing down she knew she deserved, but did not have the time for.

“Fine, you can put the screws to me later! Can I at least share the good news?” She picked up her bag, shuffling through the material she collected during her stay. She took his silence as license to continue.

“Alfie is on track.” It was a simple statement that said the only thing that was important to Harris. “There were some… bumps,” she admitted, pulling out a stack of papers, mostly articles and notes, things she wrote down about the history of Rat Alley as told by Aflie’s mother. “His lifestyle is really worrisome, but I saw firsthand the steps he’s been taking to prepare for this. He knows what’s at stake, and I don’t think he’s willing to do anything to jeopardize this…”

She had meant to go on, to gush about the out pour of support among his fellow Alley residence. How excited and energized they were and how serious he seemed to be about making a change for the better. But her words stopped flat, seeing something scrawled on the back of a page in her stack as turned past the sheet.

On the back of a stray document, in what appeared to be highlighters and colored pens from Muri’s bag, was a crude image. A child’s drawing. Though simple and unskilled, it had the sincere effort of a child trying their best to translate an idea, a feeling, into a visual representation. It was three figures, one tall, one medium and one small between the two. Their long naked tails and pointed noses made them obviously rats, as did the squared buck teeth poking out of their crescent smiles. The background, a flourish of lollypop-shaped trees and a six-rayed sun made for a peaceful setting. In blue pen, spikes covered the largest rat’s head. In purple highlighter, a stripe down the center of the middle sized rat’s shirt. The smallest figure holding hands between the two with long outstretched arms. A name, written large and bravely in black indelible ink in the corner: Colin.

Her silence was only a few beats long, but she had forgotten instantly what she had intended to say, opting to take in a deep breath she desperately needed. Luckily, Harris filled the void with a question she knew the answer to right away.

“So, you really think he’s serious about this?”

“Harris. I’ve never been more certain in my life.”