Kojo sat with his back against the blood-crusted alley wall, eyes focused on the man sitting on the opposite side.

Augusto stared back.

They were like this since the other day.

"Do you want to eat breakfast?" Augusto glanced at the alley's dead end littered with trash bags. "I know you have food there, but food is better fresh. I'll pay."

"I've never wanted anything."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

Augusto stood and began walking out the alley. "Follow me."

Kojo snapped up before breaking into a silent run.

Glancing back, Augusto snapped into action, kicking Kojo in his abdomen before he could draw his knife. "You're still too young to properly match grown men." He brought his leg back as Kojo rolled from his prone position into a ball and on to his feet. "Your approach is perfect on the unsuspecting. If you had a gun, I wouldn't be telling any of this to you now."

"You're the second person to tell me that."

"The first?"

"Dan."

"The old soldier man?" Augusto asked, eyebrow raised.

Kojo nodded.

"He still protecting Luiz? You probably know her as Abuelita."

He nodded again.

"…I'm going to say a few names. Tell me which ones you've heard before. Blood Maiden, French Cap, Red Chocolate, Carmilla Hunts, and Queen Bitch."

Kojo stood silent.

Augusto took a deep breath. "Come on." He turned to the exit and resumed walking. "Eating a fresh morning meal will benefit us both."

Kojo's hand slipped into his pocket for a second before going back out.

They walked out into the light.

"Stay by my side where I can see you. I understand you don't trust me, but I'll kill you if I feel you'll try rushing me again."

Kojo walked up to Augusto's side.

While he was in the man's vision, drawing his knife and slipping it into his knee would be easier. A distraction was all he needed. It always was.

"Adult men have hurt you in the past, haven't they?"

"I've killed all who did but you and Dan."

"Did anyone touch you?"

"No. I killed everyone who's tried. I'll kill you if you try."

"I have no interest in children."

"They all say that."

Augusto kept quiet, knowing nothing he could say would evoke trust.

Three minutes of walking took them to the interior a nearby diner.

"¡Hola!" The brown-skinned man behind the counter greeted. "¿En qué le puedo ayudar?"

"Huevos con chorizo y un café." Augusto pointed at Kojo. "Panqueques, huevos revueltos, tocino Americano y leche para el niño." His head hurt at the usage of his old language.

The waiter/cook nodded before turning to get to work.

Kojo followed Augusto to a corner table. "No one can see us here."

Augusto nodded and sat himself down.

"What was that noise back at the Dominican hideout?" Kojo asked, sitting in the seat opposite Augusto.

"A flashbang," he said in his own, more American accent.

Kojo's head dropped to the side.

"It's a nonlethal explosive meant to incapacitate people. It blinds, deafens, and unbalances those too close. Direct contact has a chance of killing you with the casing's fragments, like an actual fragmentation grenade."

"Someone wanted to kill you."

"Possibly." Augusto shrugged. "They've been terrible at it so far."

"Who are they?"

"Coworkers. Something went wrong during my last job, so my employer decided to throw me under the bus. Can't say I blame him."

"Who is he?"

Footsteps told them to keep quiet. They grew closer to reveal a server. He set down their drinks from his platter before going back.

Augusto grabbed hold his coffee in took a sip. "The Kingpin of Crime in New York: Wilson Fisk."

"A bus seems like something a man like that wouldn't use."

"I meant it metaphorically, not literally."

"I don't know what either of those things are."

"Literal and literally mean something is exactly as it sounds. Metaphor and metaphorically mean something is like something else but isn't actually that thing."

Kojo took a gulp from his milk. "I am a literal murderer. I am a metaphorical killing machine."

Augusto nodded.

"You're one too. All those Dominicans are dead."

"They were just street thugs. You could've taken care of the rest just as fast if you had a gun." Augusto hummed. "Maybe you could use my tomcat."

"Cats are for learning how to move, not killing."

"I meant my handgun: a Beretta 3032 Tomcat chambered in .32 ACP. Low recoil, semi-auto, easily concealable, and a maximum of eight rounds with a seven cartridge magazine capacity below the chamber."

"…But they do go for the neck."

"Joints, groin, throat, and eyes are the primary weak points of the human body. Fingers and toes are the most fragile but tertiary. The head, abdomen, and limbs are secondary. It really depends on your weaponry. A gun can punch right through the skull into the brain or through your insides to the spine where a knife wouldn't. Generally, the primary weak points are the most disabling though difficult to hit regardless of what you use."

"I know. My knife is all I need."

"Why not use a gun just in case?"

"Ammo, noise, and recoil."

"But why not as a last resort?"

"I kill everyone before then." Kojo took a few more gulps of his milk.

Augusto hummed, sipped his coffee, and set the mug down. "I could teach you."

"I'm not paying you with anything."

"Only need a place to rest and the alley you live in's street seems to be abandoned."

"I kill everyone who comes close. I'll kill you to."

"The only person who ever came close got a bullet in his throat, kid. I could've killed you back in that house if I wanted to."

"Dan said he could've killed me too when we met. One day, I might kill him and you."

"Why?" Augusto asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kojo's shoulders hiked up and fell. "You stop helping, injure me, try to rape me, or threaten to rid those who help me."

"How many people have you killed?"

"I always have, so I don't bother counting."

"I meant how many people that tried helping you have you killed?"

"A cat that lived in my alley. It bit into my wrist and a lot of blood squirted out, so I broke its neck and ate it."

Augusto pursed his lips. "Do you regret it?"

"Reg-ret?"

"It means not liking what you did and wanting to have done something different."

"I've never wanted, liked, or disliked anything." Kojo downed what was left of his milk. "Do you regret something?"

"…I left a woman I loved here a long time ago, a year before you were born actually."

"The number on my scarf?"

"Yeah. If that's what it means, you were over seven years ago. How long have you been killing people?"

"For as long as I can remember."

"Can you remember your first?"

Kojo shook his head. "Only some wild dogs. People are easier to kill than them. Adults less so than other children. Who was the woman?"

"The strongest, oddest, and most demanding woman I ever met. She hurt me a lot, on accident and because she wanted to, but I loved that woman."

"What is love?"

Augusto shrugged. "I still don't know for sure. All I do know is she's the only one I ever felt anything being around. Something about her attitude, I guess." He frowned. "She's probably gone now."

"Everyone dies."

An odd sound escaped Augusto's lips.

Kojo blinked

He just laughed.

"I stabbed her in the brain stem, raped her still body, and pulled my knife out only for her to rise up, kill my gang, and drag me back to her place for more. I'm not sure she can die."

"She had powers, like the Avengers."

The waiter approached with their food on a platter, set down their dishes, and walked away.

Augusto sipped his coffee. "She was a mutant, a French-born Ghanaian Akan mutant."

Kojo ripped a piece of a pancake off and threw it into his mouth.

Taking hold of a fork, Augusto began eating his eggs mixed with pig sausage.

"…You think I'm your son."

Augusto shrugged. "Who knows how many Akan women and Mexicans here had relations with each other? Your name could've been completely random too. I won't try to kill you until I know for sure: family doesn't hurt family."

"I'll still kill you." Kojo tore and ate several more pieces of pancake.

"We'll see."

The two ate and drank opposite each other in silence with the same apathetic look on their faces.

Neither of them would ever forget this.