A/N: I don't own the wolf in black or his companions. Toboe would be feeling too neglected now, otherwise. He's at least had some time in "Shots in Paradise," if you're curious as to what led him to the rooftops.
At last, not one, but two fics that break the Wargish Curse of Seven without becoming unending fics. We've got six more, to be exact, and then an unending sequel. (Well, the ending's planned; it's just the middle of the next fic that could potentially cause trouble... but hey, we've got six more "Leather" chapters and one giant "Shot" for me to get the rest of "Blues" streamlined.)
The pipes between buildings brought water, heat, electricity, and occasionally thieves. They were rounded, the heater pipes burning hot to the touch and the others were no cooler in summer and freezing in winter, and not a one of them was meant to bear human weight, but the more daring or desperate members of the Claw Gang dashed along them when they felt the need.
There were no raids planned for today and the police were out of sight, so there was no reason for Tsume to expect to encounter any of his gang members up here, much less a complete stranger. "What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded.
The boy jerked to face him, barely catching his balance. "Just bird-watching," he said rather hastily. "I didn't think anyone would come up here."
"They don't come up here because it's gang territory. Find yourself a roof, kid." Tsume thought about simply walking over the runty redhead, but decided that it wouldn't be worth his trouble.
"So what are you doing here?" the boy asked. He was still sitting. Tsume vaguely considered shoving him off the pipeline, but that wasn't a sight he wanted to see again anytime soon.
"Watching runts," he replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. His knife was cold and heavy in its leather sheath.
"You… want to watch together?" The slender little boy - not quite a young man - at least scooted over on the pipe, as if to make room for Tsume. "We can keep each other safe from gangsters if we see any."
The white-blond let loose a dry chuckle. "I don't need your help. Scram, kid," Tsume said, pushing him sideways along the pipe. He left his hand on that bony shoulder purely to insure that the runt didn't fall off. The gang leader didn't need a murder charge, on top of everything else.
He waited until the redhead had made his way to the end of the pipe before setting off in another direction. Tsume would get no peace here today. The golden eyes glanced first towards the ground far below him and then back towards the rooftops where that auburn-haired kid had sulked off. Closure would have to wait. In Tsume's experience, it usually did, so he ran on anyway, revealing the scars on his chest to hide the unhealed wounds upon his heart.