A/N: This little idea has been swimming around in my head for a while, and a friend's kind words have finally inspired me to do it, as a collaboration with another friend (She wrote all of Kurojaki's parts, whereas I wrote Akame). The reason? We don't like either of the characters. The way Yoshihiro Takahashi portrayed them and their struggle just seemed hollow to us, so we really wanted to test ourselves and see if we could change our own minds by giving them a little of the depth that we thought they were lacking. I hope we succeeded. Sorry in advance for there not being much of Kurojaki's POV in here, but we decided it was to be mostly Akame-themed. This is for our friend, Possk!

...

The humans were already gone from their clans' lives when he'd been born. His father claimed there were still some around when he'd been a pup, but he could never tell if the older dog was teasing him for his incessant questioning about them or not. History and trivia of their clan were not important, he'd always said; the only thing that was involved protecting what they'd left behind.

He didn't know what that was - yet - either, or why they had to go to such lengths against their enemy to defend it. Every time he asked, his father would only chide him about how curiosity and a soft heart would get him killed.

A shinobi didn't need his heart to obey his master.

"Akame," redwood colored eyes turned at the sound of his father's voice, "It's already dawn. If you are awake, why have you not started your morning exercises?"

"I wanted to watch the sunrise, chichi-ue."

The large Kishû padded forward silently, his formidable claws leaving nary a sound against the usually creaky floorboards. The mansion was hundreds of years old, after all, and Akame felt embarrassment creep over him as his own still-oversized paws caused the wood beneath them to groan in protest as he turned to face his father.

Shifting under his gaze, the pup continued, "… Unfortunately, it looks like Amaterasu Ōmikami isn't showing Her face today, with this fog."

Rikiseikō's brilliant white fur flashed in the faint morning light reflecting off the mist, as he sat beside his son to observe the heavy vapors that blanketed the surrounding forest.

"Indeed, your mother says we can expect rain tonight," he chuckled huskily, "It seems she's very upset she won't get to read the stars. There hasn't been a clear enough night in over a moon and you know how she gets when she hasn't forecasted her favorite boy's fortunes in a while. She's nervous."

Akame squirmed under the half-praise, knowing his father was poking fun at his mother's nervous habits to hide his own anxiety. His training hadn't been going as smoothly as anyone in the manor had hoped, as he was prone to distraction. Distractions meant slip-ups, and slip-ups meant death or worse - the enemy's success. As the mighty Rikiseikō's successor, the clan watched him with stern eyes and an unforgiving disposition, despite what his mother had prophesied when he'd been born amongst his siblings.

Frowning at the dark turn his thoughts had taken, Akame hopped daintily off the mansion's deck and trotted towards the woods. "I'm going to go do my exercises."

He could feel his father's dark eyes on him. "Plan on reaching this roof by tomorrow's sunrise. I'll be expecting to watch it from there."

Akame paused. His father's voice was not unkind, but there was no 'be safe,' or 'come back soon.' No, those sentiments were usually left to his mother, not to be uttered by the leader of their clan.

Confused by the sudden bitterness he could feel swimming in his heart against the dog behind him, Akame only nodded curtly before taking off at a swift run, that deep voice echoing in his head what he knew his father really meant to say.

Don't disgrace the pride of Iga.

…

Running felt good, it calmed the raging storm that had started brewing in his little chest and loosened his muscles until they were as lithe as a cat's. The run felt so good in fact, that the next thing he knew he was in unfamiliar territory; the sights and smells of his family forest long gone.

Only when he stopped did he realize how out of breath he was, chest heaving and his breath wafting up in misty sparkles around his face in the cool morning air. His now-stationary feet finally began shuddering with fatigue as the dampness from the grass penetrated his plush coat and stung his pads with a harsh chill.

'Where is this?'

It smelled of pond scum and densely sodden wood. The scent of a not-too distant marsh caught his attention as well. Not in the mood to explore such potentially dangerous territory, the young Kishû turned around, preparing to follow his own footprints back the way he'd come.

A sound, high pitched and wailing without the wind drew his ears back towards the unfamiliar woods.

"… -won't come out…! My foot won't come out!"

This voice was coming from… above? Scanning the trees with his eyes, Akame finally caught sight of the owner of the sobs.

It was a puppy, probably only a little younger than himself, with fur like dusk and spots made of midnight. He'd only ever seen the clean white pelts of his kinsmen, and the tuft of dark brown fuzz rising from this cub's head was also utterly foreign to him.

He snapped out of his evaluation when the puppy once again let out a harsh wail and tried in vain to pull his foot free, caught betwixt a forked branch. How had he gotten up there?

"Hold on!" Akame bunched his muscles in preparation. Then, light as air, without a sound, leapt to the second lowest branch, leaning up towards the next set and scrabbling his back claws against the worn bark to get above the trembling pup.

Eyes glassy with tears looked up at him in trepidation, and Akame smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner before leaning down with more grace than he'd anticipated.

"Don't worry. I'll save you for sure," he promised gently.

Grasping the pup's scruff firmly between his teeth, Akame pulled while simultaneously pushing against one fork limb of the branch holding the dark dog's foot hostage.

A resounding 'snap' echoed throughout the area - momentarily confusing him - before he was in the air again, plummeting towards the ground. Almost reflexively, the Kishû twisted in mid-air, shielding the unfamiliar cub from the unforgiving earth as they landed; the puppy bouncing almost comically off his stomach while Akame recovered with the quickness of youth, springing back to his feet and giving a full body shake to rid himself of the dull ache.

"Are you okay?"

The puppy was examining him like he was some kind of alien, but snapped to attention at his question. However, he only nodded.

"What were you doing up there? It's dangerous. Are you out here by yourself?"

Seemingly satisfied that Akame wasn't going to grow another head and devour him, the puppy relaxed.

"And you?" he asked in a gruff voice that seemed completely at odds with his small appearance.

Akame only smiled nervously, realizing the young dog had effectively dodged his question. Two could play at that game, then...

"I'm Akame," he announced, straining himself to be friendly against the pup's guarded demeanor.

The other dog whose breed he still could not decipher stared him right in the eyes for a moment before cocking his head slightly. "Your real name, then?"

'What's that supposed to mean?'

Suddenly the younger animal burst out in giggles, plopping his rear end down and scooting himself over to sit next to Akame. The smile reached his eyes as he looked up at the white dog.

"Honest, aren't you? My father taught me never to reveal my real name to anyone outside the tribe."

Color blossomed on Akame's face. His father had mentioned that, too... But that was to hide his identity from the enemy. This child couldn't be one of them, so he didn't see the harm in his slip-up this time.

Cautiously, he asked, "What's yours?"

"I just told you I can't tell you," the puppy laughed, almost making Akame's eye twitch in annoyance at being poked fun of. Didn't he have enough to deal with? Hadn't he just saved this guy?

"But..."

Akame's ears pricked up.

"You can just call me Ikane," the pup beamed.

"An alias?"

"That's right."

Akame sighed. Ikane seemed amused, but his own patience was fading fast, still driven downwards by his father's words earlier. That's right, he had to practice getting up high enough to reach the mansion's roof...

"Listen-"

"But hey, that was awesome, how you leapt up into that tree so easily! I bet you could climb any tree in these woods, huh?"

Color dusted the Kishû's muzzle again, unused to receiving such praise. "I... guess."

"You know what? I'm trying to learn how to climb trees, too! Why don't we practice together?" Ikane was so bubbly that Akame was temporarily taken aback. Going from sobbing, to reserved, to this in the span of ten minutes... He wasn't sure he could keep up. Still, he found himself relaxing in the younger dog's company, and his father's brusqueness slowly melting from his heart at the bright disposition.

"Sure... Let's do that."

…

Kurojaki's body felt rejuvenated as he ran back home. His training with Akame didn't leave a wear in his muscles and improved his mood, and as he passed the familiar landmarks of gnarled trees and damp ground he kept his ears and head up with confidence.

The few Kōga drinking from the water looked up at him and addressed him by his title of "ōji-sama". He nodded in response, still hurrying past them to the main camp, the prominent collection of rocks, to stop at the yawning entrance where a large black Kōga waited.

Kurojaki approached the older warrior with the polite lowering of his ears, his markings and face completely identical to the male's.

He received a curt nod in reply, the ears flicking in amusement or disapproval. Kurojaki seldom knew which.

"You were not present at your youngest brothers' training session," Yoō said bluntly.

It was disapproval, then. Kurojaki dipped his ears further down, giving a wag of his tail in apology.

"I'm sorry, chichi-ue. I didn't remember the time."

"And you left on your own without your uncles to watch you."

Kurojaki avoided eye contact to try pacifying his father more, hoping the voice would go to a monotone instead of becoming loud or sharp.

His submissive gestures didn't seem to work this time as Yoō continued berating him; an edge in his tone that threatened to rise.

"The eldest son of the Kōga Clan should never take a risk such as wandering off without a guard and without his weapon. The shame it would bring us that you would be so careless and waste your potential just for your own selfish curiosity would never be discarded."

Kurojaki knew that giving consistent apologies did not soothe his father's temper when it rose and kept his mouth shut. The usual praise he could see in the Kōga lord's eyes was not present. It always drove a deep feeling of guilt through him to go with the urges of a child and explore. His father was right: what if he had been attacked by the supposed enemy? Without weapons or warriors he would be easily eliminated.

"To take down the firstborn of a clan leader so easily," Yoō continued, "would reflect on the clan's incompetence. We would all be considered inexperienced children once the enemy dispatched you."

"I understand, chichi-ue," Kurojaki answered quietly.

Kurojaki never apologized or lied to regain his father's positive attention. He took to heart what the older Kōga gave criticism to and tried to avoid doing it again. His mother explained that mistakes were inexcusable, but his father disagreed and believed mistakes taught you valuable lessons for when you had to make choices. Between the two, making mistakes that Yoō took notice of was easier to live with.

"Should this happen again, you will be corrected," Yoō finished, although the temper in his eyes had cooled.

"Yes, chichi-ue."

"Now, your mother wishes to speak with you. She feels she has more to say on the matter."

Now Kurojaki's heart skipped a beat and he looked up at his father. Yoō gave no response back, leaving the younger Kōga to instead say goodbye and hurry off to his mother.

He felt a pang of irritation that - after his father already berated him - his mother would do the same. He understood the situation; his mother's severe intention of telling him his errors was not going to help him understand them any further.

Gatakari usually lay at the top of the outcrop, identical to the rocks in the night because of her Kōga fur. Kurojaki glanced at the typical spot she would lay and was not surprised to see a silhouette at the top. Because of its odd slender shape, he knew it was her, and began scrambling up the slope to go hop up the rocks.

Gatakari was standing this time he saw her, not lying down. The usual hardness of her expression had become a taciturn glare with a sharpness in her eyes Kurojaki did not like.

Approaching his mother, the young Kōga gave the same submissive signals he had given his father, but whereas Yoō had given the polite reply of a nod, Gatakari's eyes only narrowed.

"Your father reprimanded you," she stated.

"Yes, haha-ue," Kurojaki confirmed.

"He is merciful to you because of your age," Gatakari responded. "He feels this is where mistakes are meant to be made. However, mistakes and coddling are what make children the easiest of targets in an enemy ambush."

Kurojaki's ears kept from pulling back from her flat statement.

The female Kōga continued, pacing closer to her son.

"Luck is what keeps you from ending up dead from a mistake. Constantly acting like a fool and disobeying orders and protocol will not reward you with experience. You must follow your orders from your higher clan members and always your clan leader. A clan works only on loyalty and sacrifices. You never will have the privilege of leaving your clan or living after you have exposed yourself to dishonorable events.

"A lowly soldier would be severely punished for such a blunder - no doubt killed or forced to kill himself - but the heir to the clan is disheartening. Your father has worked hard to mold this clan into his own image for when we strike the enemy. His power will demand the fear of all clans who dare question the Kōga! He did not get to where he is through mistakes and daydreaming. If you are after a path to death or suicide, I implore you not to take it. The shame of having my own son, my firstborn son, disgrace his clan and father would mean for me to die and accept the last honorable thing I could instead of living with such a stain. Who knows how many of us it would take to sacrifice our own lives in atonement for your mistakes?"

The thought of his own family dying - of his mother killing herself - struck fear into Kurojaki's heart. His expression must have shown the remorse he felt, for Gatakari's tone softened to whatever minimal coldness it could.

"I do not use fear to make you obey me, son. That is only for masters to show to wavering servants or foes. I tell you this to remind you of your duties and your blood. A hundred would weep for if you are slain in battle, but a hundred would die in disgrace if you were to live as a fool."

"I did not realize my error brought such pain to the Kōga," Kurojaki said quietly. "Forgive me, haha-ue. I will not disappoint you again. I will die in battle happily if it would give you peace."

Gatakari never smiled but nodded when she was pleased. Her nod gave Kurojaki relief and the harsh black glimmer in her eyes faded to their normal lukewarm gaze.

"You are a forgivable son, and I will not punish you," she said. "But this is the last mistake I will ever accept. When you are to travel alone you will bring your sickle and you will never shirk or forget your objectives here. You are to be present at events for your kin and the higher soldiers. A leader is never late to an event he is needed at or else his clan will feel vulnerable to insecurity of his power and commitment to them."

"Yes, haha-ue. Thank you."

"Go. Speak to your brothers and exalt them. They trained well and your father and I spoke highly of them. As next leader you must also give them praise for when you lead them in the future."

Kurojaki nodded, his guilt mixing with relief, as he hopped back down the rocky slope down to the adjacent marshy patch of land where his brothers would be sleeping.

He felt Gatakari's eyes on him the whole way down until the lip of the outcrop hid him from view.

...

Crows were gathering and calling out against the setting sun by the time Akame finally limped back home. Ikane had proved to be a harsh drill buddy, but still, he'd found himself immensely enjoying the challenge and company. He smiled as he remembered their promise to meet again tomorrow. Ikane was anxious to know if Akame really could get to the roof of a house.

Still, he found himself dreading going home to where his father was. It hadn't always been this way between them; back when Akame was younger and his father went with him for his training sessions, they'd been close. However, nowadays, with the heavy burden of leadership looming nearer, he'd felt that bond slowly slipping away as his father's expectations turned more severe.

Looking up, he expected to see Rikiseikō's stern gaze awaiting him, but to his eternal relief it was his mother's soft red-brown orbs, so similar to his own. Yashikō was the clan's priestess; a Kishû with ginger colored ears and a blotch of the hazel fur darkening the tip of her sickled tail.

"Haha-ue!" his eyes met hers and she smiled, making his tail dance in the air happily as he forgot himself and ran up to her. She forgave his little indiscretion silently, bending down into a quick stretch of greeting in typical spitz fashion.

"Are you ready for hunting practice, Akame?"

To be honest, he'd forgotten all about it after meeting Ikane, but welcomed the chance to avoid his father's training questions. So he nodded enthusiastically, taking the sharpened spear of bamboo that she held in her jaws.

...

Name translations:

A/N: I always got the feeling that Akame was an honest, but hardened man. However, it was never explored how he may have gotten that way, and that's what the two of us wanted to convey here. He saw something in Gin and Ben that made him want to move past the hardness in his heart, which was what caused him to ultimately end the war. In this, we wanted to explore that that was his old self, and his own ideals before he became consumed by his ancestors' war. Gin and Ben also had a reason to fight, and knew very well what it was, where we feel Akame and Kurojaki did not. Akame was inspired to know that feeling and become the leader he always wanted to be.

And now that I'm done psychoanalyzing fictional dogs, the translation notes:

Rikiseikō = Divine White Light (扐垩光)

Yashikō = Nourished by the Gods (養神)

Ikane = Glinting Black Sickle (黟鎌)

Yoō = Night King (夜王)

Gatakari = Strict Authority (堅權)

Shinobi = Ninja specializing in stealth.

Chichi-ue = A formal, respectful word for father. I only used it because I couldn't think of an English equivalent.

Haha-ue = A formal, respectful word for mother. Likewise, I only used it because there is no suitable English equivalent.

Kishû = An ancient Japanese spitz dog bred for hunting medium-sized game. They are pure white, with yushoku, or "colored" Kishû being a very rare coloration of ginger.

Amaterasu Ōmikami = The Japanese Sun Goddess in Shinto religion.