File 1: Burgundy Boy

He wore a hooded blue jacket with dark pants and a white collared shirt. This burgundy haired boy gazed out over the water of Yokohama bay from where he stood at the rail, near the fairgrounds. His seafoam grey eyes absorbed the reflection of the tranquil sea itself.

However, the boy was far from content.

His own mind was brewing like an approaching storm.

No older than thirteen, but the expression he wore reflected someone older.

His skin, normally paler, was light tanned by the sun. A sun kissed hand gripped the rail tightly, discoloring his knuckles to almost white.

The tight expression he wore, held pensive unspoken thoughts threatening to spill out his mouth, despite his best efforts to keep a lid on them. His lips drew into a thin line. He closed his eyes and breathed in the salt from the air. The salt lingering on his own tongue resulted from his own melancholy.

He let out a deep sigh.

Every day he came here to think.

Every time he still wasn't any closer to obtaining the answers he sought after. Like fleeting dancing specks of sunlight through the trees, the only tangibility he could rely on were the questions piling up inside his heart.

His eyes wandered up to the sky instead.

The clouds were puffy and white. They inched without a care in the world across the pale azure sky. The boy smiled wistfully to himself. He actually liked the color blue. It was a comforting color because it was a reliable bit of company. In a way, it quieted the discord within his mind. The mixture of memories that didn't feel like his own. In a way, he'd been haunted by these bad dreams for as long as he could remember. The only one consistency?

A gun pointed at him.

The sound of a gunshot.

The boy's heart clenched like the ghost of the bullet had just penetrated his chest. He grasped the fabric over his heart in his trembling fingers. It was the same, and it had been like this for as long as he could remember. More than the bad dream, it was the words that echoed in his mind, spilling from that unknown person's lips that had found a foothold in the boy's own memory. But he couldn't remember where he'd seen that man before.

'It was not so much happiness I sought in the future, as the infinite effort to obtain it. In my mind, I had already confounded happiness… with virtue.'

What does it mean to find virtue and confound it with happiness, anyway? He wondered if this city would better help him understand the meaning of those words, which echoed in his mind.

A cat meowed.

The boy's eyes snapped down from the sky to see a fat calico cat sitting, staring at him with big eyes. The boy's tense expression softened for the first time. "Hello Mister Sir," he said softly, squatting and holding out a hand for the cat to sniff. "Are you also contemplating things beyond the normal human scope of comprehension?" he half joked, his eyes flickering with light unlike before when the light refracted off instead. "Oh…wait, did that sound pretentious?" The boy furrowed his brow, worried.

The cat purred, and nuzzled his hand.

The boy relaxed.

His worries disappeared for this nice moment. For the time being, he petted the cat on its head. This cat often came to this part of Yokohama bay. The boy had made it a habit to come here to greet it for a while now. "You probably worry your folks when you're out like this, Mister," the boy scolded softly, petting the cat. "Ah, but, the company is nice…I wonder, what would my life be like, if I was a cat?" he sighed, sitting cross-legged on the ground now, as the cat sat near his knee, allowing him to continue to pet. "What do you think? Should I be a writer? Would 'I am a Cat' make a good title for a book?" He joked thoughtfully.

The cat meowed.

"Ah, and the topic would have to be about the human spirit cohabiting a cat body in order to get a more accurate perspective on the world, don't you agree?" The boy continued conversationally.

The cat meowed again, bumping its furry head against the boy's knee, purring.

The boy giggled softly. "Wow, Sensei, you're so profound!"

He found emotions were elusive and the act of mimicking how others displayed amusement sparked something within himself every time he allowed himself the simple act of just making noises that appeared jovial in nature. He couldn't explain it. He didn't feel happy all that often in reality. In retrospect, he was reserved, quiet, and even tempered. But why did the vibrations in his own throat, much like a cat's purr, cause these foreign feelings equivalent to elation, to bloom in his chest?

What does genuine virtue even feel like?

The smell of the salt air tingled his nose. He straightened up, with a small sigh. Rather than live for a vague sense of virtue, the boy just wanted to live in the moment. But he didn't quite know what he was living in the moment for, exactly. He stretched as his stomach began to growl. "I should be off, it was nice to see you, be safe getting home now, okay?" The boy gave the cat one more pat on the head before he turned and walked away.

The cat stared after, sitting on its haunches.

It stretched and yawned.

The city lights twinkled as the evening set in and the sun began its slow retirement for the day. Like a lithe cat, the boy made no sound as he snaked his way in the back alleys of the less hospitable part of the city. This was nothing new to the boy. He'd lived here for the past year, and he knew what to expect.

Not someone who looked particularly strong, he relied on his wits and cunning to stay out of the arms of violence to the best of his ability. Reaching into his pocket, he gingerly slid out a wallet from someone he had bumped into the night before on the street. It wasn't ideal, but since when did life care about ideals when it came to survival?

With a small sigh, he opened the wallet, eyes falling briefly on the I.D. card tucked within the transparent thin veil of a front sleeve.

The I.D. read:

Kisho Kashimura

Associated with the card was a simple photo of an unsmiling pale ochurus-haired young man. The boy thumbed the bills within the main sleeve. Whoever this Kashimura guy was, he apparently carried quite a bit of cash on him. It was rare, but the boy knew he hit what one would call a 'jackpot' in the underground world of petty thieves.

Taking a deep breath, he pocketed the wallet once more into the back pocket of his pants. It wouldn't be smart to linger too long or he'd have competition for his own successful plunder. Making his way downtown, he put his hood on, to indicate he was a part of this side of society. It went unspoken more than anything.

He heard the sound of chuckling to his left as he rounded a corner near some shops, already closed for the evening. Windows had bars across many of the shops along the block. In the alley between two particular shops, the boy spotted a few common street thugs from one of the smaller gangs that littered the ground like trash.

However, what made the boy's eyes widen ever so slightly was the sight of someone he wasn't expecting.

A young girl, with dark hair in flower ponytails resting over her kimono apparel, stood, as one of the men made a rude comment and began to reach for her, despite being older. The boy's blood boiled at the creepy behavior of the thugs.

His heart pounded.

But he didn't have time to lift a finger as before his own eyes, he witnessed what he could only describe—

—As an unholy beatdown.

The girl moved faster than one could humanly blink.

In less than half of a minute, she reduced three grown men to an unconscious bloody heap. In her hand she held the tool of their demise, a short blade that could easily be concealed in one's sleeve. The boy gulped.

Okay, so this girl was clearly an assassin.

Even if those thugs weren't dead, they certainly landed at the door.

It wasn't uncommon, sadly, for many kids in the slums to be trained to kill, but the boy didn't quite know what can of worms he'd be opening if he got involved with the blade-wielding young lady. He didn't even realize he was standing, transfixed until she turned her empty gaze and locked it onto him.

That's when he realized his mistake.

His window of opportunity to leave disappeared as quickly as she materialized in front of him; like a phantom barely touching the ground beneath her sandals. He made a noise of alarm, stumbling back, instinctively.

"W-whoa!" he stammered.

The girl stood before him, some blood smeared on her cheek. She pointed her bloodied blade at him. "Why were you staring?"

Her question was direct and oddly polite.

The boy gulped. "I-I just thought you may need some help but um, clearly, that was my misunderstanding," he said, holding his hands up quickly to show he had no desire to engage in actual combat with her.

The girl's eyes narrowed slightly as she searched his face for any sign of deceit. The boy didn't know if smiling would somehow make this worse, more awkward, or an uncomfortable combination of both. He settled for feeling like his face was numb from the desire to do nothing more than to keep his lips in the thinnest line he could muster on his face.

"I see," the girl sighed finally, and lowered her weapon. "I will be on my way."

The boy felt a wave of relief wash over himself as she put away her blade back into her sleeve. He wondered inwardly if she should at least wash it first, as the smell of copper was eaking out of the sleeve she put the blade in but decided he didn't want his own blood ending up on the blade for the innocent tentative suggestion. However, he sensed something about this girl. He couldn't place why he felt the sudden urge like a magnet to glue himself to her side. He couldn't really explain it, even.

"Do you live around here?" he found himself asking lamely. He wanted to kick himself inwardly for sounding like a creep. He really worried that he sounded like those thugs. The girl's dark gaze stared at him and he wondered if she was reconsidering letting him live. He sweated inwardly and most likely it showed outwardly from the beads breaking out on his neck and forehead.

"...Why do you want to know?" she asked, deadpan.

It sounded curious, more than anything despite the robotic monotone she took on. The boy took that to mean that she didn't equate him immediately to those street thugs. He swallowed. He had no intention of giving her that terrible impression. "I know you can more than handle yourself, I just wondered, is all," he found himself babbling. He didn't talk to girls that much-and it clearly showed here. He wanted to find a hole and lie in it. Preferably alive though. And no being buried alive. Yeesh. The thought made him shiver.

"...Nowhere," the girl replied finally, tilting her head at the flustered boy. "I have no home. No destination."

Her blunt admission noted a lingering melancholy the boy detected immediately. His heart twisted. Life wasn't great for kids like them, and it was apparent without any exchange that they both were orphans, abandoned by their own country who peddled to those with money lining their wallets rather than the displaced youth living in the streets of Bungou, itself.

"Me too," the boy admitted, almost shyly. "I mean, I don't have parents…never knew them," he clarified.

The girl gazed at him. "I had parents…once."

The boy felt incredibly awkward. Okay, so clearly they weren't as similar as he first felt they may be. Honestly, he didn't know which was worse. To never know your parents or know them and somehow have lost them. The sad way she spoke implied she loved her parents dearly and they had been tragically snatched from her. The boy swallowed again, wetting his dry lips before daring to speak again, careful and hoping he wouldn't trigger any emotional landmine that would end with him facedown in the dirt. "I…I'm sorry," he finally said.

The girl shook her head, subdued. "It is not your concern," she said. She interlaced her fingers, almost nervously now that she had nothing in her hands, placing her hands formally in front of herself as she turned to walk away.

However, the boy couldn't help but feel some concern. There was no doubt that these streets were dangerous and he found he couldn't in good conscience just let her wander off. He didn't know why. "If you don't have anywhere to be, you can stay with me until you make other arrangements," he blurted.

The girl paused. She turned to look at him. Her long strand of oddly displaced cowlick twitched. "Why do you want me to stay with you?"

Good question, the boy inwardly thought, feeling more awkward. He gulped. He had to somehow put this delicately and without accidentally sounding like a weirdo.

No problem.

"Uh, because we should look out for each other when we can…you know? It's tough enough being on your own…although, being on my own is kinda what I'm used to…" he mumbled, eyes flickering as he dropped his gaze from her. He rubbed his arm, suddenly losing confidence in his own invitation. Why would she say yes to staying with him? He probably looked pathetic to her.

"...I am a burden," the girl said softly. She however, bowed to him, in a gesture of actual gratitude. "Your invitation is unexpectedly kind, however, someone like me does not deserve to be treated well by someone like yourself."

It was an awkward way to be rejected but the boy just nodded. He had no intention of forcing her to stay with him. He was mildly disappointed she wouldn't and just hoped she'd be safe in regards to whatever she planned to do from here. "May I at least get your name? In case we run into each other again?" he asked, tentatively polite.

The girl paused.

She blinked.

Finally, she nodded. Consenting, she spoke, "Kyouka…Izumi Kyouka…" the evening moonlight basked her in its glow as she spoke, and the cool breeze rustled past them both. Her doll figure was contrasted by the light that refracted from her eyes instead of absorbing into them.

The boy himself lowered his hood to be proper when he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you…Kyouka," he replied, pleasant.

"What is your name?" the girl asked, stiff and soft.

The boy smiled for the first time, and it didn't feel forced. The moonlight splashed across his gentle features. "My name is Lupin…just Lupin."

The room was pretty simple, on the second floor of the old building. The building itself looked as though it had fallen into disrepair for quite some time. There were some holes in the roof, letting the light from the outside in. Some blankets folded neatly in the corner resembled a futon.

A few simple cardboard boxes were stacked against a wall, the contents concealed for the most part but resembling what looked to be little odds and ends rested in them. The floors were cement and cold to the touch but despite this, the small space felt warmed by the gas lamps the boy lit on an old table near the window overlooking the street.

The sound of the wind brushed through the cracks and crevices in the room filling it with the presence that drove away loneliness for just a moment.

The boy closed his eyes.

Yes, this wasn't a lot to live on but to him, it was his own little slice of paradise.

"This is where you live?" the tentative young girl's voice questioned from behind Lupin, pulling him from his momentary daydream. She didn't sound condescending, but her monotone was mixed with genuine surprise.

Lupin glanced over his shoulder at her. Though his expression was usually neutral, he felt like he should smile at least, for her comfort. "Yeah, it's not much but…"

"It's nice," the mysterious Kyouka replied, softly. She didn't smile, but from the lamps burning, her eyes flickered like the flames themselves, for the first time as she looked around. The awkwardness between them was plenty abundant, but her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. The boy breathed inwardly with relief.

He wanted her to feel comfortable.

"Well, make yourself at home," he said with a light air of hospitality.

"Home…" the girl wistfully repeated. She moved over to the desk where he had some papers scattered. While the rest of the small space was orderly, ironically his desk reflected his inner mind a lot more accurately.

Lupin scratched his head, feeling self-conscious. "Oh, sorry was that insensitive?" he flustered, realizing that she probably missed whatever home she used to have dearly.

"You have made good use of this space," Kyouka analyzed, looking around, "though you don't have anything to call valuable, and you have to fight to keep this territory as your own, yes?" she gazed at him as she spoke, tilting her head ever so slightly to one side, pensive.

"Ah, well, what I find valuable is pretty much junk," the boy admitted embarrassed. He chuckled meekly, "as for fighting to keep this space as my own, I actually kinda 'earned' it, so to speak."

"Earned it?" Kyouka's brow furrowed. She frowned, lifting her sleeve to her mouth, contemplative. "...So you are part of some gang?"

The boy shook his head quickly, sensing her sudden shift in attitude and didn't want her mood swing to be a negative one if he could help it. "No, no, more like…freelance?" he weakly explained.

"Freelance?" the girl repeated, staring at him with the intensity of someone who could easily slice him six ways to Sunday if he made or said the next thing wrong. Lupin inwardly sweated again. This girl looked and sounded like she worked for some scary organization in the past. Her natural intimidating demeanor made him wonder if she was the one who actually worked for some high end underground organization.

Maybe one that rivaled even the Port Mafia.

There was a scary thought.

Many gangs tried and failed to rise up against the Port Mafia for control of the Yokohama Bay. And Lupin realized rather belatedly he may have just let someone who was a total contender to become part of the Port Mafia into his own private spot.

He swallowed nervously.

He didn't see this girl as an opponent he had to fight, but he actually wondered if she'd give him a run for his money if he did have to go toe to toe with her. He hoped not. He disliked unnecessary violence for any reason. Lupin decided to give her some context, which may be best if he wanted to avoid sudden death.

"Uh, yes," he said quickly, "the truth is, although I don't look it, I'm actually someone who fights to protect the weak. Not that I think you're weak or need protecting!" he flustered with the last bit, immediately waving his arms to disarm any mistaken conception she may derive from his tactless phrasing.

The girl's blank expression remained. She shifted on her feet, gazing at the burgundy boy. They were comparatively around the same height actually. "You fight…to protect the weak?" her soft inquiry held no rude snobbish air.

Lupin knew it sounded silly and far-fetched but he continued to speak regardless. It was not the norm for him to have someone who actually took him seriously on this subject. Not that he talked to many people about it. His face burned a little from how self-conscious he felt talking about it with her. But, she was giving him her undivided polite attention.

Not one to be rude, he proceeded, "I'm not special or anything. I don't have any amazing flashy special ability, and I have no interest in firearms." he bluntly stated the last bit with a fervor that made the girl's eyes widen ever so slightly. "I prefer to use my own strength, however it may manifest to…" he trailed off, the passion in his voice replaced with the seed of doubt that she would want to listen to this.

"To…?" she pressed him, trotting closer.

The boy wondered if she actually did think him some level of stupid. Silly. Fantastical even. And yet, he looked at her eyes and saw there was only a burning fire there. A fire that yearned to be fed. Lupin felt his heart thud in his chest. That same fire he recognized well. It burned in his own eyes.

"...This place is the closest thing to home for a lot of displaced orphans like myself," he stated, looking away. "I considered joining a gang or two back when I first found myself here, but taking sides isn't something I'm very good at, I learned…"

"Taking sides?" the girl inquired, frowning, puzzled. "You cannot decide which side to be on…the path of the dark or the path of the light?"

Lupin shook his head. It was an odd question from someone like her, he thought. The rationalization didn't feel like it suited her either. But, she was earnest, her expressions honest, and Lupin realized that she took him completely seriously. It was not a bad feeling. It was not one he was used to, certainly.

He clenched his jaw, his mind scrabbling to find the right words. His mind felt like a crossword puzzle, riddling him with too many choices and not the right defining words he wanted to express. "I believe… that the dark and the light…need each other," he replied, and he moved over to his own desk, gazing down at it.

He picked up a pen that rested on the surface. He fiddled with it in his fingers.

The girl continued to stay silent, patient, observant.

"I think rather than one or the other, I'm that thin line in between… often invisible to the naked eye, and overlooked by both day and night themselves…I'm sort of a self-made vigilante of Twilight," he spoke in a soft tone, expression shy, and fidgeting in a demure fashion.

"Twilight… you say? Huh...you are strange," the girl monotonously deadpanned, staring at him fervently and unblinking. "You remind me…of someone precious to me."

Lupin's face turned red from abashment. But when he opened his mouth to defend himself in a pouting manner, he saw she was smiling for the first time. Her gaze was gentle. Her eyes, distrusting and cold before, looked just a little more alive. Lupin couldn't peel his eyes away from her.

She looked almost like a flower that blossomed under the light of the moon itself.

"You're teasing me," he finally said, with a disgruntled pout.

She shook her head. "Not teasing. It's a compliment. There is someone who showed me the light and…" however she trailed off. The sudden silence alarmed Lupin. He frowned at her, concerned.

"Showed you the light, huh?" he asked, encouragingly. "So you come from the dark side?" He was half-joking, half making cliche movie references, and partially hoping he wouldn't be skewered for the light jest.

She nodded. "I am ex-mafia," she admitted.

Lupin felt his blood run cold.

This girl wasn't a contender for the mafia. She wasn't even from a rival gang opposing the mafia. She was actually the Mafia. Lupin gulped suddenly feeling his throat run dry as the river of his own thoughts as the drought of panic set in. Was this a trap then? Had he just led the Port freaking Mafia to his own home?

Kyouka's blank monotone cut like her concealed blade through the air. "Now you understand why someone like you should not waste their kindness on someone like me?"

Lupin's initial comical shock was replaced with genuine concern. "You mentioned being ex-mafia? But that would mean…" he tapered off.

"Yes," Kyouka said formally, placing her hands once more in front of herself as she spoke, "I am on the run. I am a fugitive of the law as well as the underground…there is no place anymore for someone like me…"

Lupin felt his heart twist again. "Don't say that!" He found his boiling impulse on his tongue caused him to blurt out-despite her being a complete stranger. Despite her being someone he only just met. He just couldn't accept that this terrible fate she was predicting was all that was left for her.

The girl looked taken aback. Her eyes widened slightly. Then her gaze neutralized again. "You really are a lot like him," she said softly.

"I don't know who this guy is, but he sounds like he knows what he's talking about!" Lupin found himself continuing his outburst. "Okay, so your past isn't too great, so what? You have to look towards how you wanna face the future!"

"There is no future for someone who has killed others, and in my case….I have killed thirty-five people," the girl's rehearsed monotone speech continued, melancholy. "You say you protect others? How can you accomplish something like that all on your own?"

Lupin scratched his head. "I use my words and if that doesn't work, then I use my fists as a last resort," he bluntly shrugged, like that completed his logical reasoning.

"I see," Kyouka tilted her head. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at him. "You do not fear me although you are aware now of my background and know I have taken lives?"

"Was that a path you chose or one that others placed you on?" Lupin countered.

The girl quieted.

Lupin had his answer.

But, he had already formed a hunch based on their conversation to begin with. Lupin's pained expression contrasted to her own as she averted her gaze. "You say there's no future for someone who has taken lives, but I don't believe that. Since you have the weight of those lives on your shoulders then you can still make them mean something!" Lupin stood before her, hands clenched by his own sides. "Instead of focusing on how you can't change the past, you can at least keep them alive by including them in your journey forward! Someone who cares so much about the lives they've taken cannot be someone who is inherently evil and irredeemable in my mind!" His voice trembled, and he flinched, knowing he sounded selfish and perhaps even insensitive to her own personal predicament.

The girl's lips drew into a thin line. "...You don't know my story," she finally said, voice quivering.

"Then tell me…so I can understand you better," Lupin fiercely stated, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her square in the face. Her own gaze avoided his own stormy one. His eyes were a dark grey-green but the light shining in his irises was liquid honey-amber. It was only for a moment before the light returned to the normal glow of the lamps around them.

Kyouka shivered like a battle was raging inside of herself.

She flinched at the touch and Lupin immediately removed his hands from her shoulders. He gave her space again, backing up, hands up.

Kyouka's lower lip quivered. The carefully repressed emotions began to leak out of the dam in her mental resolve. Her eyes watered. She looked like a lost child on the brink of self-assured destruction.

Lupin felt helpless.

He didn't want to startle her.

But he wanted to help her.

He just didn't know how.

His expression twisted.

"No…no…" she shook her head. "I don't deserve this kindness. Atsushi-kun believed in me enough to try to protect me as well…he showed me there was a place…the Armed Detective Agency where anyone regardless of their past could have a second chance…and all that did in the end was place him in danger because of my own ties to the Mafia…" the girl choked, the tears beginning to spill freely down her cheeks now.

Lupin clenched his jaw.

Man, I'm going to die for this, but whatever at this point, I guess!

"Tch, dammit!" Resolve made up, he hugged Kyouka tightly, knowing full well he would most likely get his ass handed to him for the gesture. He braced himself for the attack. Anything. He closed his eyes, still hugging her crying face into his neck and shoulder as though to shield her from any other intrusive pairs of omnipresent eyes.

She made a small sound of surprise. Then she hiccuped like a tiny balloon. Lupin still braced for impact the same way one would on a burning plane headed for a crash landing at sea.

Still, no attack came.

The girl continued to sniffle into Lupin's arms. Lupin comically didn't relax an iota. How could he? He was trying to comfort her but also didn't know if he should expect to find himself in a body bag for his effort, regardless of his good intentions. Waiting to be sent up to heaven or out the window towards a 7-Eleven…

He realized quickly no attack was coming on his life.

He let her go finally, although she still trembled.

He moved away from her and began to rummage in one of the cardboard boxes. Kyouka hung back, still swaying like a house of cards about to fall down. Still, she watched him, as he began to procure what looked like a small pot, and ingredients for cooking. Before long he had made a small campfire in the middle of the room, blowing on the baby flames he created with a box of matches.

The set up made it so the flames could stay controlled and since the floor itself was concrete, there wasn't anything immediately flammable anyways for the fire to burn in order to get out of control. In terms of smoke, that issue was also taken care of. The window was already open, and the glass was half broken anyhow. Lupin squatted, beginning to pour water from some bottles he had stored previously, into the pot.

"You're probably hungry after everything…I know that what cheers me up when I'm feeling down is a good ol' pot of house-made curry!" he grinned at her, wobbly and awkward, but trying his best in his own way to take whatever load he could off of her plate.

"You want me to stay?" she asked, meek.

"You're gonna do whatever you have to," Lupin replied, staring at the pot. "But at least for tonight, you don't have to feel so alone, alright?"

Kyouka wiped her eyes, taking a shaky breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding this whole time. "Alright," she softly replied. And she meant it. Though it was fleeting, she felt the weight of the world squeezing her just a little less, like he took a little bit of it with himself when he let her go just to let her breathe for a moment.

And she was grateful.

Her eyes were wet but for a different reason now. One she wasn't used to acknowledging she could still feel with anyone. A feeling she thought she had only felt with Atsushi-kun and the rest of the ADA. But this person made her feel like she was right back there with them.

"Good, hope you like it spicy," he said with a giggle and a mischievous grin.

"I'll like it," she said immediately, and Lupin couldn't help but giggle again at her eager, firm affirmation despite having not even tried it yet. Lupin didn't often have company and it felt nice to cook for two for a change.

They both fell into a comfortable silence.