Four years passed since that fateful day and Kojo now found himself again in a pristine, clean caffeine café like it was marketed to be, specifically behind the counter fiddling with the equipment for his daily special as everyone else tried to ignore his existence. It was a herculean task for he grew a herculean frame in his conquest and governance of the Bronx's underworld. He was known locally, rumors in the borough's remote neighborhoods, and whispers everywhere else in New York.

And here he was getting his coffee.

Yawning, he filled his Fisk-tech plastic java holder. "Second week, here we go." He sipped the bitter, smooth drink and hummed. "That's that good shit."

The fearful civilians averted their eyes as their benevolent overload leapt over the counter and landed perfectly on to a table.

He plopped down on to a seat and closed his eyes.

Everything was fine.

A sweet-robust scent eked into the café before the door opened.

Kojo groaned, making the staff quiver.

Now everything was ruined.

Lithe footsteps tapped closer and the scent grew stronger until its owner was opposite of him.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Kojo opened his eyes to glower at a familiar blond. "No… Who told you about this place?"

She smiled. "Marcus."

"Why?"

"I wanted to see you!"

"No, why the fuck did he tell you!"

Metal clanged and glasses broke behind the counter.

"I might have maybe bugged him way too much about stuff you like."

"So he told you about this place?"

"No."

"Then what did he tell you?"

She cleared her throat. "Dayumit, ya white bitch! Mah homeboi like coffee, settlin' his beef, icin' bitch ass punk ass pussy ass bitches, and beatin' his meat!"

"That's racist and inaccurate."

"You're racist."

"I know." Kojo sipped his coffee. "It's hard being genetically superior in every way and surrounded by trash of every race."

"Yet there's no other mutants." The blond giggled.

"They either killed themselves, were abducted by whichever mutie hate group, got picked up by the X-men, or crossed me."

"Huh, did the capes ever come for you?"

"Not yet, but they'd have to bring their all-stars if they fuck with my plans." He turned his cup over to glare at the miniature figure of Wilson Fisk imprinted in its plastic. "I'm coming for you, fatass. You and that red ninja bitch."

The blond leaned forward, eyebrow raised. "Have you ever wondered why?"

"If they knew I existed, they'd come for me. Something's keeping me hidden."

"Shouldn't you look into it?"

"Why are you so curious, Alex?" Kojo scowled. "This only concerns you if they come for me and you're all in meat shield distance."

She raised her hands, balled them into fists, and moved them together underneath her chin. "Meow!"

Snarling, the crimelord looked down into his coffee.

This was his life now.

"I really don't get why you just don't move now. No time like the present, right?"

"No, I'm not ready. Too much can go wrong: I can't get equipment without alerting the other players, I don't have the men to hold New York, a single move on anyone will trigger a move on my turf, the dealers or their suppliers might start some shit in the chaos, and I have to do it all as quickly as possible."

"But if you had to?"

He looked up and grinned. "Complete annihilation. Surgical strikes on leadership executed in succession. Let the underlings fight and burn everything down. I can move in but cementing control will take time, and I won't get all of New York when the fire's done. So long as Manhattan is secured, the rest of the city would be inevitable."

"Mhm, soldier boy talk." Alex walked her fingers across the table. "So tough and powerful."

Kojo rolled his eyes. "Oh fuck off, you literal whore. I don't want hepatiti, syphilis, herpes, or the clap."

"You know I'm clean. I was one of my pimp's premium stock! Why else would you let me fuck around? Besides, I thought you were immune to everything a human could catch?"

"I like being safe."

"Boring." She looked around the barren café populated by them and frightened employees. "This is booooriiing." Resting her head on the table, she sighed. "Why do you come here?"

"Coffee, what else?"

"You can get that anywhere, naughty liar."

"Stop." Kojo looked up at the ceiling lights. "…I actually don't know why. One day, I decided to see how long I could go without sleep and found this place. The staff let me do what I want, have the coffee type I like, and have these nifty cups." He glared back at mini-Fisk. "Could do without my competition though."

Alex lifted her head to rest on her open palm. "But here?"

"Something's going to happen here. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but I feel like I'm exactly where I need to be. Just need time is all."

"…So fate?"

Kojo grimaced. "A very basic bitch way to put it but yes."

"Okaaay." She thumped her hands down against the tabletop. "What'dya say we ditch this place and fuck to forget about how awkward and gay that was of you?"

"If I had a replacement for the roundtable, I'd just kill you right now; I do not find you attractive whatsoever." He was lying: she smelled of pure sex on account of having it so often and was a good-looking girl a few years older than him, which all appealed to his super mutant puberty hormones. "I'm not a faggot. I just don't want to fuck you."

Alex grinned. "I should've known. You have been looking an awful lot at Ren lately."

"What the fuck…"

"Specifically her back. More specifically, her ass. I can't blame you honestly: that girl makes her big booty Asian ancestors proud."

"You know what I did to her!"

Humming, Alex wiggled her eyebrows.

"Walked right into that one." Kojo sighed. "It's never going to happen, even if I wanted it to."

"Crazier shit has though. We girls are completely batshit, so it's even likelier. She probably thought you were culling the gene pool specifically to make breeding her special."

"…Have I ever told you how annoying and fucked up you are?"

"Dozens of times."

"That's probably the most fucked thing you've ever said."

"Marcus told me I'd never be as fucked up as you." Alex giggled.

Kojo scowled. "Why does he keep answering your useless fucking questions?"

"He misses you." She raised a hand to her chin. "A lot."

"I'm right here."

"Pretty sure it's an emotional thing. I won't try to pretend I understand you guys' bromances because I really don't. Just don't be too emotional when you go in for the hug or else no woman will ever find you two sexy ever again, adorable gay love birds."

"There's no such thing as love." Kojo raised his coffee and took a full gulp, completely oblivious to its hot temperature. "We've killed together, bled together, and fought together is all. Unlike the rest of you, we're brothers, and we're still here, unlike everyone we lost at the old warehouse." He paused. "And he's not gay either."

She smiled, ever so innocent. "He told me you'd know."

Kojo blinked.

"Yeaaah, he told me what happened two years ago. You wild beast."

"Not a fucking word if you value your life."

"I think it's pretty sexy."

"Don't give a shit; you tell anyone, and you die."

Alex dragged a finger across her lips before throwing away the nonexistent key.

"…Fucking Marcus." He glared at the silent, happy blond. "Why don't you just slit your wrists and spare me the trouble?"

She drew the tiger-claw knife always by her hip and held it out to him, grip in reverse. "Why don't you do the honors?" She blinked as he slid over. "Uh?"

Kojo, spooning her arm in his, gripped her hand. One by one, he maneuvered her fingers into a proper hold of her knife. He set his elbow by her inner one before guiding her through a series of short, savage slashes, ending with stabs and post-stabbing twists.

Alex's fair skin was beet-red before she turned to the still face and dead eyes of someone else. "Boss?"

He glanced at her.

"…Who?"

Kojo blinked and slipped right back to where he was. "You need a lot of work. I don't doubt you can kill most unprepared. Everyone else, not so much. Only use reverse grip when in enclosed spaces where you're stuck with it: they're not designed to be used that way and you sacrifice what little distance that big cat pinky has." He took several gulps out of his coffee. "This is the big leagues, Knife of Whitestone. Adapt or die."

"I already have." She stood from her seat. "I'm bored now." Stretching, she yawned. "See ya later, big man."

"Thank fuck."

Alex's smile died when she stepped outside.

Once again, she was all alone.

"What is it about us that's so broken?" She asked no one. "All we share is unfortunate life circumstances beyond our control, some more than others. Even though we don't have to, why do we do this?" She sighed and stepped into the Bronx. "Why do we keep going?"

Someone would smile in her presence and they would never be seen again: man, woman, or child.