A/N: Another multi-chapter fic! Please note, this is shounen ai (and might become Yaoi in later chapters). Also, for a larger version of the cover image, please visit my profile page for a link.

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH or KxH.


"That's the one," said the silver kit. "That butcher has the best meat in this market." Through the crowds of Saturday shoppers, the three young demons could make out a fat man standing behind a makeshift table displaying meat of various cuts and quality. Featured prominently on the table was today's target, a generous cut of tenderloin.

"Oh, I know that guy! That's Hiro the butcher! We'd better be careful though, I heard nobody who steals from him ever gets away with it." Yusuke's eyes darted to and fro, scanning the market place and settling back on Hiro's table. He wiped a trickle of spittle from the corner of his little mouth with his torn sleeve. It has been weeks since he last had meat and the idea of biting into a juicy morsel left him salivating.

"Hn. Child's play," Shrimp nodded curtly. He knew exactly what to do. Getting up from their crouched position by the entrance of the market, the trio were swept into the current of shoppers. Slipping between the crevices amid the adults, they drifted their way downstream towards their target, unnoticed.

Well, except for Yusuke.

As they passed by a fruit stall, the vendor shook her fist at him. "You again? Don't you dare steal from me again! Get away from my wares!"

Yusuke pranced away, making googly eyes and sticking his tongue out at her.

The baker tried to grab him, "Hey, you little rascal! Get back here and pay for the bread you stole last week!" Quickly dodging back into the safety of the crowd, Yusuke plastered a wide toothy grin on his face.

"Hey Half-breed!" Fox called out to Yusuke, beckoning him closer. "You're not exactly discreet, are you?" The silver kit teased, grabbing the half-demon child by the arm and leading their trio to a quieter place.

"Stop calling me that!" Yusuke protested but allowed himself to be dragged diagonally against the stream of pedestrians and into the back street. "Unlike you punks, I actually have a name. Start using it."

"Names are useless." Shrimp narrowed his red eyes and crossed his arm. "I've been fine without one all my life. Besides, all they ever call you is little shit, rascal, moron, or whatever. Fox was pretty generous, calling you half-breed."

"Hey, I happen to like my name! Repeat after me. It's Yusuke. YU-SU-KEH." The dark hair boy furrowed his thick eyebrows, puffed out his chest and stared down at Shrimp. "Just because your parents didn't bother to name you before they aban —"

"Here's the plan", Fox whispered hoarsely, barging in between the two and taking charge of their ragtag gang. With a sense of authority a street urchin ought not possess, he gave out the orders, "Yusuke, The market vendors obviously recognize you, so go cause a big ruckus. Drawing attention seems to be your specialty. Shrimp, you're the fastest. Grab the tenderloin when the butcher's not looking. Don't forget to give the signal when you're done. We'll meet back at the Bridge." Under his hooded cloak, his silver tail fluffed itself and his ears twitched backwards in excitement.

Shrimp nodded, adjusting his headband to make sure it covered his third eye — his most identifying feature — and right after a quick glare at Yusuke that said we'll-settle-this-later, disappeared into the crowd.

"What about you, fox? How come you don't need to do anything?" Yusuke challenged.

"I'm the backup plan in case either of you mess up," Fox said smugly.

"Guess that means you won't be lifting a finger."

"You're the one who wanted steak," Fox reminded him. "Now go! Shrimp doesn't like to wait."

Yusuke blew raspberries at Fox before melting back into the crowd.

Fox rolled his eyes. After tugging on the front of his hood to make sure it covered his flashy ears and long silver hair, slowly followed suit. Trailing behind a middle-class humanoid demon, Fox played the part of a sullen son who got dragged to the market by his mother. He moved slowly behind her and waited with his arms crossed, one foot impatiently tapping every time she stopped at a stall, all the while keeping his eyes on his two partners.

True to his reputation for speed, Shrimp was already in position. He stood two stalls down from the butcher and pretended to be interested in a wooden toy sword on display. Stealing glances at Hiro, he noticed that the man was always alert, glancing this way and that for potential customers and thieves. The man wouldn't be his ideal choice for a target, but then again, Shrimp loved challenges.

Across the narrow aisle, Yusuke sprang into action, knocking over a barrel of squash at the vegetable stall and sending the fruits tumbling all over the market.

"Hey you! What do you think you're doing?" The vendor cried out a string of curses, rushing out from behind her stall to gather the scattered squash.

"Oh Madam! I'm so sorry!" Yusuke exclaimed, clapping his arms together and bowing in apology. "I'll help you pick them up." He kneeled down to gather a few gourds while knocking the rest further away and pocketing a few smaller ones.

Pedestrians tripped and fell while others stopped to watch the scrambling vendor. The steady weekend traffic slowed to a crawl. Some good samaritans stopped to help gather and chase the stray pieces of fruit. Others complained about the hold up.

"Watch out for that kid!" Hiro the butcher shouted from across the aisle, arms waving wildly and gesturing to Yusuke. "That's the mongrel who's been stealing from everybody!"

Widening his eyes and putting on the sweetest expression he could muster, he protested, "I swear Madam! He's got the wrong person!"

"Grab him!" Hiro continued to shout. "How many half-ningens do you see around here? That's him for sure!" Just when Hiro was about to step out to grab the mongrel, he caught something in his peripheral vision: a tiny hand reached out from just beneath his table and nimbly snatched his prized tenderloin.

"Oh no, you don't!" the butcher muttered as he leaped over his stall in a display of agility not suggested by his girth and grabbed Shrimp by the cloak. Shrimp sidestepped the ensuing attempt to grab his person, unhooked his cloak, and allowed it to be pulled off him in one smooth motion, all while chucking their treasure at Yusuke.

Leaping onto the barrel of overturned squash and away from the reach of the angry vegetable vendor, Yusuke hurled himself into the air and grabbed the bundle midflight. He didn't even bother to cast Shrimp a glance before making off in the direction of the Bridge. Shrimp would be alright. He always was.

Hiro grabbed Shrimp by the shoulder, spinning him around. Quickly, Shrimp pivoted and swiped the cleaver from atop the thick cutting board. Dodging an incoming fist, he crouched to trip the butcher, redirecting Hiro's energy into a downward momentum. Before Hiro could catch his balance, Shrimp swung the cleaver down, hacking into his thick backside.

The butcher howled in pain. Next to him, several squeamish demons started screaming hysterically.

Surprised by what he's done, Shrimp dropped the weapon and turned to leave, only to find himself surrounded by a tight semi-circle of angry vendors and curious onlookers. Before he could escape, the mob descended upon him, their thirst for blood taking priority over the wounded butcher.

Shrimp bit, scratched, tore, kicked, and jabbed, fending off all offending appendages. Even if he gets out of this scot-free, there was no way he would ever work with that idiotic Half-breed ever again. He's been able to steal alone just fine, thank you very much, even if they have been only thefts of opportunity. He never should have let Fox talk him into this.

The horde has gotten so thick that the bodies blotted out the sky and its light, removing his most obvious path to freedom. Shrimp quickly assessed the situation. The good: so many new bystanders have joined the mob that half of them didn't even know its purpose and were kicking and pulling randomly. The bad: if he was to get out, Shrimp would have to crawl out of there while dodging the heavy boots. He could get trampled.

Wearing a heavy scowl, he ducked down and began to worm — creep — his way towards a sliver of light that kept on shifting. Legs shuffled around and knocked into him, forming new escape routes as quickly as they were taken away. To get through the available space, Shrimp twisted and contorted his body in ways that he didn't know was even possible and managed to make some headway. It wasn't until he was four bodies deep into the horde that they finally realized he was missing from the center of the semicircle. The mob went berserk. All around him, sightless arms reached and groped frantically for a child, legs tromped and kicked, bodies pressed closer together as more curious bystanders joined the madness, and shoving matches began as spectators accidentally struck each other. In the darkness, Shrimp gasped for air, trapped within a stifling cage of long torsoless limbs.

A pale hand grabbed him by the arm. Shrimp craned his neck and bit the hand. The hand withdrew, returning seconds later to constrict him with a thick cloth. Shrimp fought, flailed his arms about, clawed at the fabric and then felt the familiar coarse woven texture. This was his cloak. He was being restrained by his cloak.

The hands were relentless and growing more frantic by the moment. The lack of oxygen must be affecting Shrimps eyesight, as the arms seem to be glimmering, but he didn't have a chance to dwell on that. The crowd in front of him had began to panic. Legs retreated towards him as if there was a reward for achieving the most body density within their tight semicircle. Somebody was shouting, "Heaven save us, those pumpkins! They're gonna burst! They're gonna —"

A loud boom rippled through the air. There was no smell of gunpowder, only pumpkin and roses. Strange, Shrimp did not recall seeing a florist at the market. The mob stampeded, self-preservation at an imaginary threat replacing bloodlust and curiosity. The pale hands reached once again to pick him up while fallen spectators were crushed by the hysterical crowd. Shrimp turned, fist withdrawn, ready to strike. It was Fox.

"You did this."

With a vacant expression on his face, Fox nodded, then allowed the stampede to sweep them apart before he bolted towards the Bridge, a large bundle tucked under his arm. Slippered feet ran stealthily on cobblestone street, taking him down only the cleanest streets in the city. There were puddles in one of the lanes and he couldn't help but check his reflection. Did he looked as bewildered as he felt? He didn't. As he ran through the city, one hand on his head to keep his hood in place, the homes on either side of the street turned from desolate and decaying huts, to modest shacks, and finally to magnificent mansions. He was in one of the wealthiest sections of the city. It didn't matter that he looked out of place in his threadbare grey cloak, he was here to enjoy the scenery. This was the only area within city limits that was alive with plant life, even if only in the form of manicured gardens, and it calmed him. His hand brushed a small bud and it bloomed at his touch. He smiled, feeling his heartbeat calm, and continued onwards. He neared the River Onyx, a natural fortification to the west of the city, and slipped through a crack in the city walls. Instead of making his way to the drawbridge, gatekeeper to the city's Westside, he made his way to a tiny triangular shaped island attached to the city's shore only by a makeshift bridge of scavenged material. He skipped over the Bridge, whistling a folk song he'd once heard.

"Took you long enough," said Shrimp, his voice traveling from above in the canopy of the trees.

"You took the rooftop route."

"What else would I take?"

"You should have been a bird demon. You would have liked the freedom of the sky."

Shrimp shrugged then said dryly, "Who knows? I inherited my jagan from my whore of a mother and eventually, I will inherit my father's powers, whatever they are. If I'm lucky, I might grow wings."

Fox smiled and laid his bundle next to the package of tenderloin and small fire that the half-breed must have built.

"Speaking of which, when did you learn to do that?" Shrimp asked, jumping down from the tree to join Fox on the grass.

"Do what?" Yusuke appeared, a bundle of twigs in his arms and a bruise forming on his forearm. Apparently, he and Shrimp had already settled the score. Yusuke sat down and began to sharpen a twig with a dull blade.

"This one here blew up some pumpkins," Shrimp nodded towards Fox.

"You did what?" Yusuke turned to face him, hands frozen mid action.

"I didn't blow up anything," Fox protested, hands gesturing wildly. "It just - grew - I mean, I was frustrated, and the pumpkins reacted. I knew my powers have something to do with it but all I've been able to do up to now was make a flower blossom or grow some glass." He swept his arm over a bare patch of land and a thin patch of grass began to grow before their eyes. "Look at how thin that is! Pathetic! I wish it was thicker!"

"That's what she said!" joked Yusuke. Shrimp whacked him on the side of his head with a stick. Yusuke swiped back with his twig, missed, then suddenly laid down, arms over his shoulders and hands behind his head. His wiped the silly grin off of his face and took on a thoughtful expression. "I wish I knew what my powers will be. If they're anything useful, I'm gonna get stronger and then get as far away from here as possible. I'm sick of this life, the stealing, the running away, being treated like rats, going to bed hungry..."

Fox laid a hand on Yusuke's shoulder briefly before turning to spread out the day's haul. "Well, at least today's not so bad," he said brightly, holding up a jug of wine.

"Whoa! How did you get that?" Yusuke sat at attention and even Shrimp moved close, uncorking the jug and tentatively sniffing. Yusuke grabbed it from him and took a big gulp.

"Under the cover of chaos, thanks to you two." Fox smiled, reaching for the jug to take a swig as well. "There's cheese, fruits, and a bit of honey too. Tonight, we feast!"

It wasn't until after his belly was full to bursting and the liquor had put him in a blissful and warm mood that Shrimp had a chance to reflect on how unusual it was for the three of them to be together. Shrimp was an antisocial creature, accustomed to being alone ever since his mother passed away. He knew that Fox spent a lot of time away from the other street children as well, acting in accordance to his solitary spirit fox nature. Yusuke was always around, boisterous and reckless, but never seemed to stick with any particular group of children for long. Somehow, despite the occasional bickering, he didn't mind either of their company. Is this what it means to be friends?

Stretched comfortably on the thin patch of grass Fox had made, Shrimp laid on his side with his rolled up cloak tucked under his head and watched the half-breed knock two sticks together in a repetitive pulse while Fox swayed to the beat and sang a lively tune. He'd never seen either of them at ease and in such high spirits. Feeling content, he tossed a few more twigs into the dying fire before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

None of them knew it then, but this would be one of the last times they would be happy, healthy, and together.


That's all for now! I'm trying to change my story telling style in this fic. I hope it works. Please review!