Fast forward! Martillos appearing sooner than expected. Note: Mr. Yaguruma is also written as "Yagulma" in the novels. I just used the spelling that should be closer to the pronunciation. Sorry for the extreme delay and shortness of the chapter.

1921

The aging man swept through Maiza's open doorway and turned to face him.

"I seem to have acquired a child."

Maiza looked back and forth between his old friend and the little boy at Mr. Yaguruma's side. The child was a skinny, ragged thing, with scuffed and bruised pale skin and windblown hair that made Maiza's inner neat-freak wince. The cold had sucked the color from his face. It was clear why, his shoes were falling apart, his pants were sloppily patched and in Yaguruma's tight grasp was his threadbare shirt, no coat. Out of his wide brown eyes- watering slightly, with tears barely held back- shot the most amusing, ineffectual death glare Maiza had ever received. "I see that..."

Yaguruma continued looking at him expectantly and Maiza put a hand to his forehead. They were close friends, and the man was wise. His unconventional methods and behviors were just a bit... worrying. Maiza asked the necessary question, "And how did you get him? ...Not just taking him, I hope?" As far as he knew, Yaguruma hadn't engaged in kidnapping, but one never knew. The rules of society were often ignored by him.

"Oh, nothing illegal. What would I want with one anyway?" He growled, "Little brat tried to pickpocket me."

Maiza smiled, his friend's grudging kindness both amused and attracted him to the elderly immigrant. "And you want me to take care of him?" He knew the man did not trust himself to take care of a child, and he couldn't say he thought it would be a good idea either. Things like empathy and caring weren't his forte.

The man nodded and held the little boy by both shoulders in front of Maiza. "He needs to be patched up. And put somewhere he can't bother people."

Maiza watched the little boy bite his lip nervously and decided it was time to step in before Yaguruma scared him to death. The poor thing probably thought he was going to be horribly mutilated- no telling what Yaguruma had said to him on the way to Maiza's apartment.

Maiza bent down so that their faces were on the same level. "Hey there. What's your name?"

In response, the child recoiled, pressing himself against Yaguruma's legs. With a sigh, Maiza took his hand, ignoring the squirms of protest and led him to the kitchen. Yaguruma watched, leaning on the doorway.

XXXXX

Firo had no idea what the hell was going on. One minute, he was reaching into that old man's pocket, the next, he was being pinned to the ground by a big, heavy boot. He struggled, trying to stave off what he was absolutely sure was death or at least a good beating, but it didn't help. The old man was strong and Firo was at his mercy.

And now he was in an amazingly clean and warm apartment with a bizarre, smiling man who spoke softly and was-

Oh god.

He was buttering bread. Firo held himself perfectly still and tried to keep from staring holes through the back of Maiza's head. Was this the torture that old man had been talking about? He'd thought he heard something about being beaten to death with his own liver... But this was a whole lot worse to the scrawny, starving child.

A plate was set in front of him. Firo repeatedly shifted his gaze from Maiza, to the food, back to Maiza, then back to the food. "Wh-wha..?"

The man smiled encouragingly, "Go ahead, eat up."

Was it a trick? Was it poisoned? Was this Maiza guy going to use the theft of food as an excuse to kick his ass? With those thoughts swirling around his head, Firo cautiously took a bite, then wolfed the rest down.

"Slow down," the man urged with a slight smile as the last bit disappeared into Firo's mouth. With a laugh he shook his head, "I'll give you more later. It's best to be eased back into this." Firo kept his mouth shut. The edge had been taken off his hunger and just the promise of more food was enough to hold him steady and even erase some of his suspicion. He nodded and swept his eyes across the kitchen back to where the old man was standing. He still wanted to keep an eye on that one. The old man stayed impassive and Firo turned his attention back to the man with the food, who seemed to be talking to himself.

"...probably a bath." He saw Firo's eyes on him and the corners of his mouth turned up again- did this guy ever stop smiling? "We'll get you cleaned off, would you like that?"

The offer was tempting. Firo'd grown use to the grime clinging to his skin and clothing, but the neatness of the apartment had made him conscious of how filthy he was. "Yes..." He answered cautiously, meeting the man's eyes fully for the first time. He quickly added, "Please."

Off to the side, the old man grunted, "And here I thought you were just a little barbarian." Firo's head snapped around and he opened his mouth to retort. A hand on his shoulder- gentle, but still startling- made him flinch and quiet down as the nicer man stepped forward. Instead of rebuking either one of them, he began conversing quietly with the old man, who nodded once and left as the nice man gave a wave and parting 'thank you.'

As way of explanation, he turned to Firo, "That's Mr. Yaguruma. He's going to get you something to wear that doesn't look like it's about to fall apart." He paused as Firo looked down at his clothes. They weren't too bad, and he was worried about how exactly these guys expected him to pay them back. Loan sharks, he decided with the unpleasant buzz of anxiety in his stomach.

He looked back at the man, firmly setting his jaw, and breaking free from the look of wide-eyed fear that had been stuck on his face. This guy had seemed nice, which was confusing, but now that Firo knew his game he knew he had to look as tough as possible. Even if it was a losing battle. "What do you want from me?"

Maiza blinked a few times, taken aback before the smile slid back onto his face, "We want you to accept our help."