"Vuoto, you should go. See that tunnel there? If you run there, you'll be safe."

"B-but what about you, Metallo?"

"It's okay. Don't worry. I'll cover you. Just go now."

With a gentle nudge in the right direction, Metallo pushed her charge down the dim-lit hallway. As the small child gave a worried glance back, she simply smiled and whispered in his ear, "be safe, child."

Her charge gave a small nod and scurried down the hallway as voices from down the other path started getting louder. Metallo turned as a group of mafiosi dressed in white lab coats ran down the hall, stopping in front of her. Their eyes scanned the surroundings, trying to find the familiar small figure that would always be by the older woman's legs.

"Where is he?" One of the mafiosi snarled, pulling out a gun.

Another one of the taller mafiosi raised a hand and the other lowered his weapon. "Stay calm, friend," the taller man said, voice completely void of emotion. "Don't get M042 angry. It will only end in bloodshed."

"It'll end with carnage one way or another," Metallo smiled, showing her brilliant white canines. "I'll lodge you all on the end of my blade." With a flick of her wrist, three thin needle-like blades the length of her arm and the width of a fingernail shot out of her tattered sleeves. Spinning them carelessly in her fingertips, Metallo sighed as each one of the mafiosi pulled out their respective firearms. The tall hitman just shook his head and turned around, walking back into the depths of the corridor.

"Running, Corvino?" One of the men jeered, laughter in his voice.

The tall mafioso, Corvino, just waved a hand. "Goodbye," he said in a monotonous voice, his footsteps echoing down the dim hallway.

Metallo laughed. "Looks like one of you has survival instinct. Now, come and meet your end."

"Oi, oi! Pass it here, Vuoto!"

"Y-yeah!"

Two small children ran down the streets of Italy, one laughing, the other one giving a small smile. The laughing boy's fire-red hair streaked behind him as the wind whipped all around him. The smiling boy's spiky brown locks seemed to defy gravity as they stuck upright even with the ferocious gale.

The two turned a sharp corner as a small group of men passed by. The red-haired boy gave a half wheeze, half pant and dropped to the group, a chuckle in his voice.

"Well!" His windswept voice had a unique, eternal laugh in it. "What interesting men! Dressed all in black! How funny!"

The brown-haired boy shushed his friend as another horde of the men ran by. As they passed, he sighed and shook the leaves out of his hair. "That was fun," he admitted quietly. "But we could've gotten killed. A-and that's bad-"

The other boy laughed again, slapping the other on the back. "You can't lie to me, Vuoto," he said happily. "I know that glint in your eyes. You love adrenalin."

Vuoto blushed deeply and lowered his head, his brown eyes shining with embarrassment. "Maybe it was a little fun, but - but I really think we should watch out for those guys! I mean, we've gotten caught up in their arguments a lot! Please, Pantera!"

"Oh, it's okay," Pantera replied carelessly. "My dad used to be one of them. Then he got killed 'cuz he wasn't following orders. The redhead gave a wide smile and slapped a fist onto his own chest. "But if runs in the family! My old man, Giaguaro Selvaggio, couldn't be contained! And I'm a Salvaggio, too!" Pantera said proudly, raising his fist in the air. "I can't be controlled!"

"Cuz you're a wild animal," Vuoto teased. Pantera smiled even wider at his joke. "Yes, I am!" Standing, the redhead pulled a brown bag full of items closer to the two. "I'm glad you understand. Now, let's see what those bad men had in this bag, shall we?"

Vuoto moved closer as he helped Pantera drag the bad (which was surprisingly heavy) into an old shack. The brunet closed the door behind him with a creak and sat down on the cold ground. The redhead dumped the bag's contents on the floor and whistled. "Shiny."

"Shiny indeed." The brunet was let in awe as he picked up a few articles of jewelry from the pile. The pile consisted of expensive jewelry, expensive gems, and expensive artifacts. Pantera picked up a small tiara and stood, four golden bangles on each arm. With a sweep of his arm, he brushed his hair to one side, giving Vuoto a look that he only used on girls to get out of sticky situations.

"Admit it, Vuoto," he said in a charming voice. "I'm absolutely fabulous, aren't I?"

Vuoto returned with a cheeky smile and grabbed an armful of stuff, dressing himself up.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Vuoto stood proudly with a teardrop-shaped crown around his forehead, displaying two gem-lined silver pendants and about six multi colored bracelets on each arm. A crimson cape lined with fur rested on his shoulders. Raising his head upward, Vuoto raised a golden scepter and strutted around with authority.

Pantera laughed and kneeled down, giving a mock bow. "All hail Vuoto, King of Fabulousness," he joked.

Vuoto laughed in response but started taking off the trinkets. "No, but seriously. What should we do with all this?"

The redhead paused to think for a moment, removing the expensive garments. Snapping his fingers, the taller of the two gave a feral smile. "You know those men dressed in black, right?" Vuoto cocked his head. The two had just been running for their lives away from them. Why would Pantera ask such a question?

"Well, seeing that I'm an adrenaline junkie, yes," Vuoto replied blandly. Pantera gave a light chuckle before his grin turned into something much darker. The two sat down and started putting the trinkets in storage crates they had found. The shed that they sat in had been their hideout for two years, including two makeshift beds, a large underground hiding compartment, and several peeking holes in case of intruders. That, and, most importantly, a pair of gauntlets and one arm-length needle as thick as one's fingernail.

Pantera shifted around on his bed after the two had finished hiding the treasures in the underground compartment. "I mean, do you remember who those guys are?"

"...That look in your eyes isn't good," Vuoto pointed out nervously. "I don't think you told me before..."

"Think on the lines of 'a really big group.'"

"A famous company?"

"Hm... well, not quite."

"Oh god. A street gang?"

"Nope. It's like a mix between the two."

"Oh, no." Vuoto's eyes widened as his hand went into his palms. "No. No." Pantera shook the brunet's shoulders gently but with a firm grip. "Say it," he provoked with an evil voice.

Vuoto gave a small moan before his mouth opened and the words slurred together out of pure anguish and worry.

"...The mafia..."

"Ding-ding!" Pantera raised his fist victoriously. "We have a winner!"

"Pantera!" Vuoto cried out desperately. "Okay, I understand if we steal from those rich families because they're all assholes, but... argh!" The brunet grabbed his gravity-defying hair and let his head droop as the redhead started piling up small stacks of golden coins.

"Pantera, you knew who those men were beforehand, didn't you?"

"Hm, yup."

Vuoto dropped his head even lower. Pantera smirked evilly. "Vuoto, if you keep on dropping your neck like that, you'll end kissing the ground."

"No, I'll be kissing my grave," Vuoto weeped.

"Well, grave or not," Pantera said dismissively, opening the hatch to the underground compartment, using one quick sweeping motion to swipe all of the unneeded jewelry into the hole, leaving only coins and money. "Once done, it can't be undone. So let's just make the best of it, yeah?"

The brunet stayed silent for a while before grabbing a handful of golden coins from the remaining pile. He stuffed the money into the pocket of his jacket pocket before glaring stubbornly at Pantera. "I'm getting new clothing," the shorter of the two said. "If the Mafiosi see us in the same clothing, they'll kill us. You can go get food or something."

As Vuoto walked off, Pantera pouted. "Aw, don't be mean! Let me help you pick, okay?"

"No. My fashion sense is much better than yours."

"Why – I'm offended!"

"No you're not. Go get food for us otherwise I'll buy a neon pink t-shirt for you that says 'Hold my poodle' on the front of it or something."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me. I know you hate that movie."

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't!"

"Actually, you can choose. Neon green or neon pink? Because both colors make my eyes hurt. Just like your face."

"I-"

Pantera let out a childish huff as he crossed his arms and watched Vuoto jump into the crowd of people, slowly moving along with the flow. The redhead smiled and cocked his head to the side.

"Well, Vuoto, you certainly have changed quite a bit."

Flashback – 4 years ago

Pantera let out a primal noise as he bandaged the fresh wound on his upper leg. He had been hasty – but seriously, when did that guy with the knife sneak up on him?

"Well, fuck," the redhead hissed, seeing how deep the knife had cut. Crimson blood flowed out from the wound onto the wet pavement. The wound would heal eventually… but it would be a pain to work with. In the underground world, the formula thief + wound = success usually didn't work out very well. And, being a freelance thief, Pantera found that injuries were never fun to deal with during heists.

Pantera Salvaggio. Son of the famous Giaguaro Salvaggio. Age 15. Grew up on the streets of Italy as an orphan because his father had abandoned him. Found talent in stealing.

Yes, the simple explanation was always the cruelest.

Pantera's yellow eyes snapped up in fear when he heard the barking of dogs. There was no doubt that they had picked up his scent. Swearing, the redhead finished bandaging his wound quickly and quickly retightened the leather bands on his metal gauntlets. Though the once shiny gauntlets were covered with blood, they still could crush bone. And that was the important part. Even though they were heavy, the usual knife or gun was always too troublesome. A knife lacked power and a gun was only good for range. Stealing meant getting in and getting out without anybody noticing.

Gauntlets had both close range and power. Double win.

The stinging pain in his right calf was starting up an annoying buzzing sound in Pantera's head. As small droplets of blood started seeping out from the bandages, the redhead quickly added another layer of gauze and ran on, the sound of the falling rain clashing with the heavy footsteps, ragged breathing and the barking of the hunting dogs.

Pantera ran on for a couple of minutes before he ran straight into a brick wall. It was then that he realized that he was slipping in and out of consciousness.

And so he found an alleyway and slowly sat down.

Because either way, death would come swiftly, right?

Death was always a small concern for the redhead. Ever since he started working the freelance life, he knew that his death wasn't going to be a pretty one. None of that emotional bullshit. Just pain, blood, and a whole lot of running away.

How enjoyable.

"U-um… are you okay?"

A quiet voice jolted Pantera out of his thoughts. Out of the corner, a small figure leaned against the brick ball, eyeing the redhead cautiously. Pantera glared and gave a hiss, partially out of pain.

"Who are you?" He demanded, though not making an effort to run. "Come to kill me?"

The figure gave a small squeak of fear. "I-I'm seven! I don't kill people!"

"Right. Very believeable." Pantera sighed and looked up to the rainy sky, closing his eyes. Dying by the hands of a seven year-old assassin wasn't very satisfying, but it didn't really matter. Death was knocking on the door and it was getting impatient.

The figure shuffled closer and the redhead let out a long breath. "Do it quickly, kid. Otherwise they'll kill you for being slow or some other stupid fucking reason like that."

"You swore," the smaller of the two mumbled quietly.

"Who gives a shit?" Pantera replied with a slight grin on his face.

"It's bad," the figure scolded. "And it's rude. It's not nice."

Pantera stared out of boy as he decided to take a seat next to the bleeding redhead. The boy was young - seven, as he stated. He had gravity-defying brown hair and warm chocolate eyes that seemed to possess a certain type of innocence. He wore a simple blue jacket and loose black pants that were noticeably too big for him. Both were in bad condition. But the thing that the thief's eyes lingered over the longest was the long, arm-length needle-like blade in the brunet's hand. It was deadly sharp and thin at the tip but was rounded at the edges. That thing could so a lot more than knit.

Pantera shifted uncomfortably as the child gave a few glances at the blood that was seeping from the redhead's leg onto the boy's pants. However, as Pantera moved to the side, the kid moved with him.

"Doesn't the blood bother you?" The thief asked curiously. The boy didn't seem like any kind of child assassin. Children usually ran away from blood or at least flinched or paled.

"Not really," the brunet replied. "You see, I used to get cut like that all the time. So blood doesn't bother me." After a short pause, he blinked and added, "oh, but pain really gets to me, though."

After a few minutes of silence, the child seemed to realize something and started to look for something in his pockets. With a bit of rummaging, the child pulled out a roll of bandages, some dry matches, and a tissue. Pantera starred as the small child unrolled a certain length of bandages. With a kick of his heel, a knife slipped out from the shorter figure's boot. He cut the roll and wrapped it around his wrist.

"What are you doing?" Pantera demanded as the brunet pulled out a match. It was only then that the redhead noticed that it had stopped raining.

"Please stay still," the child said politely as he struck the match against the box. As the tip caught fire, a bubble of panic rose from Pantera's throat. Was the boy actually an assassin? Did he plan to torture information out of him?

The redhead's worries were dampened over as the boy lifted the flame in front of his forehead. Closing his eyes, he exhaled and gritted his teeth together in focus. After a few seconds, a bright and pure orange flame flickered into life.

Pantera gasped as he saw the flame. He had seen that flame before. It was a Dying Will Flame, a kind of power that he saw only a few Mafiosi use. Though he didn't really understand the concept, he had seen how destructive the Flames could be. The Vongola were an infamous family that used Dying Will Flames a lot.

The brunet sighed happily as he saw the flame. He lowered the match right next to the bleeding wound and ignored Pantera's panicked cry. "Please calm down," he said reassuringly tone of voice changing completely. "It won't do much. It'll seal the wound. That's all."

The redhead watched in awe as the flickering flames coated over the cut, and with a slight tingle, the wound was completely healed. Moving his leg around to test if the knife wound was truly closed, Pantera's eyes widened when he discovered that the pain had disappeared completely. "Amazing," the taller of the two breathed. "How… how did you do that?"

The boy seemed to cheer up quite a bit at the redhead's amazement. Extinguishing the flame on the match, the boy raised his hand and closed his eyes again. Pantera jumped back as both of the boy's hands caught fire, burning with a beautiful shine. As the brunet's eyes flickered open, they were no longer their usual shade of a warm chocolate brown. Orange eyes the same shade as the brilliant flames that were dancing on top of his fingertips gazed calmly at the redhead.

"These are Dying Will Flames," the boy explained in a monotonous voice. The kindness and nervousness that had been muting his voice was swept away and left an emotionless voice. "I was trained so my flames could be fine-tuned."

"What attribute do you possess?" Pantera asked slowly, curious as to why such a young child would possess Flames that not many in the mafia world could control.

The boy cocked an eyebrow but replied nonetheless. "Flames of the Sky," he replied.

"Sky Flames!" Pantera gasped.

"Yes," the boy replied. "I possess the strongest and rarest of them all – Flames with the Sky attribute. Normally Dying Will Flames only possess one key characteristic. For example, Sky Flames have the 'harmony' attribute. Sun Flames have the 'activity' characteristic, meaning they are the only Flames that can heal, but with my fine-tuning, I can heal to an extent."

Pantera sat in silence for a few minutes. During the time, the boy's flames flickered out and he hunched over suddenly, letting out a few pants out of exhaustion. His arms quivered and he was drenched in sweat, starting to shiver as a cold wind swept by. The redhead glanced over as the young boy leaned onto him slowly for support.

"Hey, kid," Pantera called gently, still processing the information. How did such an innocent child have Sky Flames – or Dying Will Flames at all? And what did he mean by "trained"? Shaking his head, the thief shook the shorter child's shoulders.

"You okay?" He asked, lowering his head so he could look directly into the child's eyes. The child gave a tired nod. "Oh," the child added slowly. "My name is… Vuoto, I think. I don't really remember my last name… I think it started with an S…" Raising his head, the brunet looked at the sky.

"Sa… Sa-something," Vuoto finished off hesitantly.

Pantera gave a wide grin, much to the Vuoto's confusion. "Perfect," the thief said happily.

Vuoto gave a confused look. "Why is it perfect? All I said was that I don't really remember my last name."

"Oh, Vuoto, child. You have much to learn."

"…Huh?"

"Hm, as thanks for saving me, I'll take responsibility of you."

"What does that mean?"

Pantera leaned in close and smiled, showing his sharp canines. "It means I'm your caretaker for now, Vuoto. You're interesting. I'll keep you." With a friendly pat on the head, the redhead added, "oh, and I'll give you a last name, too. You said it started with a 'Sa'? Hm… okay."

Vuoto sat in silence as the redhead mumbled several options under his breath.

"I know," he said finally. "Maybe… Saera?"

Vuoto gave a confused look, raising an eyebrow. "Saera? What's that mean?"

Pantera put on a happy face and gave a fake pout. "Oh, dear Vuoto. Do names always have meanings? No, I just chose that name because it sounded cool."

Vuoto frowned. "Is that even Italian?"

"Nope! Well, I don't really care. You shouldn't either. Names aren't really that important."

Vuoto stayed silent for a few moments before smiling. Before the redhead could react, the boy jumped into his lap and gave the thief a warm hug, snuggling into the warmth of the older boy. Pantera's cheeks flushed up instantly as Vuoto's cuteness infected him with something more deadly than any disease. It was like hearts and kittens and rainbows had decided to sparkle up around the boy. Pantera almost expected the boy to start mewling.

"I like you," Vuoto said cheerfully. Then he frowned. "But first… what's your name?"

"Pantera," the redhead replied proudly. "Pantera Giaguaro."

"It's nice to meet you, Pantera! I'm your new charge, Vuoto Saera!"

Pantera's face broke into a brilliant grin as he hugged back.

"Well, welcome to the family, Vuoto."

Omake

"By the way, Vuoto, what happened to the dogs?"

"The... dogs?"

"Yeah." Pantera had decided to give the kid a piggy-back ride back to his hideout. He was only seven and had been half-asleep after using his Flames. It was only after the redhead had walked several blocks that he realized that there was nobody pursuing him anymore.

"You mean... the bad men and the puppies?" Vuoto asked tiredly, his eyes drooping.

"Yeah."

"The bad men were scary, so I put them to sleep. I looked at the dogs and they ran away."

A shiver ran down Pantera's spine as he stiffened and his eye twitched.

Oh god, I've met a demon child.