Slowly… take it slow and steady.

The world was dark, the only light available was flickering from the windows, casting a faint glow on the outside world. Maleko hunkered down close to the ground, hidden by the grass and garden, kneeling and eying the top of the trashcan. His body was tense, yet the muscles were loose, ready for him to move at a moment's notice, ready to charge, to pounce.

He breathed deeply, holding it for a moment before letting it out once more. Rinse, repeat. Keep breathing, stay calm, stay still.

At the corner of his eye, Maleko saw movement. He refused to move, but his eyes followed the small figure as it ran across the lawn, pausing only to snuffle at the ground. He waited as a dark head poked up and looked around. Waited as it started drawing nearer, closer and closer. The vermin had yet to notice anything wrong as it continued scuffling towards him.

Drawing towards the garden, it's protective wiring still a gnarled mess from Maleko, it perked its head again. Something was wrong, it must have noticed. It hurried towards the carrots, intent on getting its food and getting out. Maleko watched, digging his fingers into the ground as he waited, shifting so that his legs were ready, muscles coiled, ready to spring.

Just a few more feet… one…two…three… count the seconds as it got closer; five… six… seven...

The raccoon paused, Maleko sprung forward.

At his sudden movement, the raccoon froze. It was only for a moment, but that brief hesitation of fear was all Maleko needed as he landed atop it, throwing his entire weight on the animal, small hands grabbing it tightly. A snarl escaped him as he dug his claws into the coarse, dark hairs. The raccoon squirmed, Maleko grabbed it by the neck.

A swift movement, a firm twist and it fell limp in his hands.

Maleko relaxed, pulling himself back so that he sat crouched among the garden. He took a deep breath, an open smile on his face as he stared at the prey. His heart was racing now that it was over, adrenalin and excitement mixing together. It had been so long since he had hunted, actually hunted, he'd missed the thrill, the rush he got when he caught his prey.

He wanted to dig into it right now, tear it's pelt off and eat the meat. It'd been long since he'd hunted, longer since he'd had fresh kill to eat. As much as he had loved how cooking tasted, there was something special about fresh meat.

Before he could bite into it, the door opened reminding Maleko of why he'd hunted tonight. He got to his feet and scampered out of the garden, holding the dead racoon up proudly for Mickey to see.

"Ga-got it!" he slurred, still smiling.

Mickey laughed, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "You weren't kidding when you said you were a hunter," the teenager praised, moving aside so that Maleko could enter the house. "Having you around might be a better solution to our raccoon problem than mom and her gun."

Puffing his chest out, Maleko couldn't help but feel pride at the praise. But when Mickey made to take the raccoon, to stuff it in a trash bag to be disposed of, he held it closer to himself and shook his head.

"Not done," he said, swatting his hand away and making his way to the kitchen. "Skin it. Meat is—is good. Is," Maleko hesitated, fumbling with his words, trying to find the right ones. "is good with," he shook his head, frustrated at his own words and gestured desperately at the spice rack, hoping Mickey understood.

He did. "I've never had raccoon meat before," Mickey said, watching Maleko throw the raccoon onto the counter and climb into the chair so he could reach. "And you're sure it's good?"

"Uh-huh!"

Maleko hadn't really ever had these kinds of raccoons before. But there had been similar small animals back in the jungle, surely they'd taste the same. Any meat was good meat, after all. And he would be lying if he said he wasn't particularly excited to show Mickey this. To show that he was proficient in something, himself, that he had something he was good at the same way Mickey was good at games.

Before he could grab the raccoon again, Mickey swiped it and placed it in some kind of metal tray.

"As delightful as some cooked raccoon may sound, I don't think ma will be too thrilled about it, you know?" he offered, bringing the trayed raccoon out of Maleko's reach. "She's already got some chili cooking for tonight's dinner, I doubt she'd be happy with us changing it on the fly for some raccoon meat instead." He didn't stop smiling, however, as he began edging away towards the back door. "How about we toss this one out, and we can see about you catching us a different one tomorrow night. Does that sound good?"

He was soft as he spoke, patient. Mickey didn't speak to Maleko in a way that suggested 'this is what we're doing and it doesn't matter what you say even though I asked'. Even if Maleko knew that what he said wasn't going to change anything, the way Mickey talked to him made him feel like his words would hold some sway. He liked that. "Aight," Maleko said, nodding his head. It was like Mickey had said, he could catch them another raccoon any time.

Satisfied, Mickey took the raccoon to the outdoor trashcan, the metal bin making noise as he dumped the body and tray in. "Asahi, you go wash yourself up, then we can play some games until it's time for dinner, alright?" he called from the doorway.

Nodding his head, Maleko scampered out of the kitchen, making his way to the bathroom to scrub his hands clean of dirt and raccoon.

This family was nice, he thought. He'd only been here for a day, but he liked this household, liked this family. Maggie was a lot like mama in many ways, and Mickey was a lot like an older brother. He listened to Maleko and played with him, and none of them asked questions he couldn't answer. He liked being here. He wanted them to meet mama, she'd like them too. They took care of him, bandaged him up, were nice to him.

And they were safe, too!

Taka hadn't given him any warnings or cautionary words since he'd come here, only telling him to be careful of his identity, to not run out just yet. Not when Kim and Jackie were probably still out there and looking for him. Even if he wanted to leave this house, he couldn't, not until he knew it was safe to keep moving. Taka hadn't given him any reason to worry about Maggie and Mickey, either.

The bird kept close, always in the trees by the house, keeping an eye on him, always close enough to talk to him. That's what mattered, Maleko wasn't sure what he'd do if he lost Taka, he had been there for him this entire time. Losing him would be terrible.

He hummed as he scrubbed his hands clean, nose twitching at the citrusy smell of the soap as he cleaned his hands and wrists.

By the time he'd finished scrubbing his hands and arms clean, making sure that not a speck remained from his earlier hunt, he'd come down to find that Mickey had already set up the living room for the two of them. The TV was on a low buzz, the familiar home screen of his game console up and waiting for a game to be chosen. The stairs creaked as Maleko climbed down, watching the teen fiddle with a controller.

Hearing the creaking, he looked up at the boy and smiled, dark eyes warm and friendly as Mickey gestured for Maleko to come over. Which he did, scampering the rest of the way and climbing onto the couch beside his friend.

"Alright," Mickey smiled, ruffling Maleko's hair when he settled in. "We're going to play one of my RPG games tonight," he explained.

Maleko tilted his head, "Are-Pee-Gee?" he repeated slowly, he'd heard the term before. Sometimes from Soul and BlackStar when he played with them, even David brought the word up from time to time. He'd never seen one before, however. "Fun?"

"Very," Mickey confirmed. "Pick a number from three to five."

Three to… huh? Maleko stared at him, head cocked to the side. He wasn't very smart, he knew that, but he'd been certain that numbers started at one. Asking to start from three just made his head hurt and for him to start questioning what little he understood of numbers.

"Just humor me, kiddo."

"Uh… aaah… five!" Maleko finally decided after a prolonged moment of confusion, trying to make sense of what was going on. Five, he'd decided, because it was the bigger number.

Mickey snorted, sliding off the couch to rummage through his game cases. "A man of good tastes," He laughed, and though Maleko couldn't see it, Mickey slipped a game disc in, the machine whirring to life. Mickey returned to his spot on the couch and then tugged Maleko up so that he was seated on his lap, arms around the boys midsection in a lazy hug as he held his controller. It was nice, it was warm. "Persona 5 it is, then."

Maleko's brows furrowed. "Persoh-sona 5?" he asked. That meant it was… the last game in the series, right? Then he shouldn't he start with the first one?"

"They're all pretty much independent of each other," Mickey said, as if he had known what Maleko was thinking. "Most people don't consider the first half of the series to be part of the same, universe, I guess? As the last three games. But you can play pretty much play the series in any order you want. You like supernatural stuff?"

"Eh?"

"Mythology," he explained. "Folktales. Demons and angels, that sort of thing."

"Oh. I, uh, I dunno?"

That only made Mickey laugh, "Well, you'll find out if you do or not after this."

As it turned out, Persona was fun.

Even though Maleko wasn't handling the controller, wasn't the one actually in control of the protagonist, Mickey made sure to involve him in everything. During fights, Maleko got to suggest actions, during dialogue, he got to help decide what to say. Whenever they had the little quiz questions, however, Mickey was the one who answered the, for obvious reasons.

Maleko felt like he was just as involved n playing the game, not just an outsider watching.

They got to the first palace, Maleko a jittery mess of excitement and confusion on Mickey's lap, he had burst out into uncontrollable laughter when he saw Kamoshida. He didn't understand why, but a cap and speedo looked funny, so much so that he hadn't been able to stop and had almost fallen off of Mickey's lap and onto the floor—would have had Mickey not kept his arms wrapped around the boy. It took five minutes for him to calm back down for them to continue the game.

That wasn't even talking about how pretty it all looked. So much color. And the music, it was something else entirely. He'd squirmed and swayed and bopped to the music wile Mickey laughed behind him.

"Yeah. The Awakening music kicks ass," Mickey laughed, and Maleko could just hear the capital letters. "You'll hear it a few more times." To that, Maleko squeaked and yipped happily.

He loved the outfit that Joker wore, the mask, the coat, the style. Maleko had never been one to care about fashion, he'd go around his everyday life naked if he could, clothes were sometimes just uncomfortable and constricting. But he didn't, because people didn't like that. Even so, there was something about the clothes Joker wore that made Maleko want them for himself.

The volleyball coach wasn't really that good of a person, Maleko found himself curling his lip whenever the man appeared. It was his attitude that bothered Maleko. Everything else he did, or apparently did, well, Maleko couldn't really understand, but Mickey really didn't like him, so Maleko didn't either.

Then the girl, the nice, quiet one with the sad eyes, jumped off the school roof. She wasn't able to catch herself like Maleko had when he jumped out a window at the Academy. She got hurt. Badly. Maleko decided that he wanted to tear the teachers throat wide open.

They had only reached the first boss when the front door opened and Maggie burst into excited chatter with the newcomer.

Pausing the game, Mickey grinned and nudged for Maleko to get off of him as he, himself, rose from the couch. "Dad! Welcome home," he greeted as he left the controller on the coffee table.

"Hey, there, Mickey. Boy, it smells good in here, are you cooking chili?" a man's voice asked, a rustle of clothes suggesting he was removing a coat to hang on the rack. "Oh, do we have a guest?"

Maleko squirmed and turned around, still kneeling on the couch as he peered over the back at the new man, the father of this household. His brows furrowed in confusion and his mouth set in a straight line as he saw a familiar tall man with a head of thick black hair. There was a look of equal surprise and confusion on Mickey's fathers face.

"Ah, dear. This is Asahi," Maggie introduced, standing at her husbands side and holding a hand out to Maleko with a warm smile. "I found him last night all tangled up in my garden. He'll be staying with us for a little while, until we can find a way to get him back home."

That only made the man's brows furrow, the creases of his forehead becoming more apparent. "Asahi?" he repeated, as if that didn't match up with what he'd already known. Of course it didn't. Kim had called out 'Maleko'.

This was the man from last night.

This was the man who had almost run Maleko over with his car.

This was the man who'd held Kim back when she caught up with him, giving Maleko time to flee once more before finding safety with Maggie.

"Well," Taka's voice rang in his head, he wasn't sure at this point if it was Maleko imagining or Taka talking. "Fate certainly has an interesting way of working."

With a trembling smile, Maleko raised his hand in a scared wave. "'ello," he greeted, awkward and anxious. Was this man going to rat him out? Was he going to kick him out? Turn and hand him over to Kim? The doubts were bubbling up inside of Maleko, growing stronger the longer the man waited to reply.

But then he smiled, it was bright and genuine, a smile that made Maleko feel safe. The man got down on a knee and watched Maleko, smiling peacefully. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Asahi," he said, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Maleko decided that he was good.

It wasn't long after that Maggie called them all to eat, claiming the chili and sandwiches were all ready to be had. Maleko sat beside Mickey, careful as the husband—Robert—questioned him about this and that. Where was he from, how was he feeling, simple, not probing or suspicious. All the same, Maleko was careful as he answered each one as 'Asahi'.

Until Taka told him otherwise, he'd be careful, even with the people he felt he could trust.

The sun had set, replaced by the grinning moon, drooling it's blood and chuckling cruelly as it overlooked the world below.

Kom had been distant.

Usually, Kai wouldn't care, nor would she notice—she was hardly a cozy individual herself, but Kom of all people distancing himself was abnormal enough to catch her attention. He claimed he needed to avoid any distractions if he was to perfect all the new drugs and poisons he was manufacturing for her and the Acolytes, she could understand that, but it was off all the same. He was hiding something from her and it made her… anxious wasn't the right term… tense.

She loathed to admit it, but it made her angry. Kom was her most loyal ally, she dare say he was a friend. She knew his loyalty went beyond just friendship on his end, she wasn't blind, she just never had interest to reciprocate. So, for him, who was known for obsession and loyalty, to be hiding something and sneaking about, it was off-putting.

It wasn't as if she feared him betraying her, no, treachery wasn't even a question.

Kom cared about Maleko, not nearly as much as she had, but he had loved the boy in his own way. There was no way he wouldn't have wanted to seek revenge himself. He would want the heads of those who had slain her boy, the ones who devoured his soul, just as much as she did. So no, she didn't think he was planning to betray her.

Not that it eased her nerves much. Betrayal wasn't the only reason someone could go skulking about like he was, and even if he wasn't planning to go against her, whatever he was doing under the guise of his drugs was something he clearly felt she would not approve of enough to be open about. It was the unknown of what he could be doing that bothered her. She would much rather suspect him of being a spy than to have not a single inkling.

She tried not to think about it too much. Kai couldn't afford to cast Kom out this late in the plans, he was irreplaceable at this point. Even if much of his work was alchemical rather than magical in composition, there were very few Acolytes with the talent and knowledge of alchemy to be able to resume his work if she disposed of him. She'd have some keep a closer eye on the sorcerer, pretend to be in the dark.

There were more important things than for her to focus on the distrust she felt towards those around her. Not that she could say she actually trusted any of the Acolytes, witches or sorcerers who had joined her cause.

Everyone here had their own reason for joining her. Most were only here because they hated Death, they hated the demon weapons and their meisters. It was understandable among the witches and sorcerers, the war between the two sides was as ancient as time itself. The humans, now that was a grab bag of reasons. Some hated the DWMA for various reasons, some disliked the idea of a God of Death ruling over them, were opposed to the notion of a being of death making laws for the living. Some of the more radical numbers, which was surprisingly the majority of the Acolytes, honestly believed Kai to be a God of some kind.

Was water manipulation really so astounding and unbelievable that she was considered a God? Well, she wouldn't encourage nor deny the notion so long as it kept them loyal. These cultists were the ones who she could say were the most loyal. They believed her to be their God, of course they wouldn't go against her lest the face divine retribution.

Humans were unbelievably stupid. They clung so desperately to a belief that they refused to believe anything else.

Oh well, they weren't going to last much longer, anyway.

Kai was pleased to say that the curtain would be closing soon. It had taken a few days since the decision, but she and her company had reached Antarctica. The entire landscape was full of water, from the ice, snow, to the ocean and the people on it. This would be the battleground. The snow would run deep with blood, bodies would be scattered, and Death's army would be crushed. She'd have complete control over the terrain here.

She had little doubt that Mabaa and other witches would join her once she has her victory here, finding the crippling blow she deals Death as proof enough that her side is the winning one.

Even now, more and more followers and allies were arriving to the frozen wasteland.

Perhaps Kai wouldn't kill Death. She could kill his son instead, let him feel the pain. Leave him abandoned in that city of his, unable to leave, picking off any allies he hoped to find before they could enter. He could watch helplessly as all that he built was destroyed, unable to lift a finger to help.

Whatever she chose to do, she had time to decide.

"Are you ready?" a witch squeaked as Kai walked past. Skoya, if Kai remembered right, another of the witches who only joined because of a hatred for Death. A small, timid girl, probably no more than two hundred years of age, old enough to know the trauma that Death's 'order' causes, young enough that she's not made herself a complete recluse living only within the With Realm.

Kai nodded, feeling the corners of her lips turn down in a tighter frown. An address to her followers, Yuri had claimed. She hadn't really seen him since she first rejoined the Acolytes. He had been gone from her party for a while to assemble others and had regrouped with her only a short while ago. He said she needed to make a statement to all those who believe in her, who follow her, to bring them here and remind them why they must fight.

A bunch of empty words, a boring speech, just to put a fire under their asses and get them to move faster.

She wasn't going to say no, Yuri was smart, she would admit.

As she stepped into the wide open ice 'stage' that had been constructed, the crowd before her waiting anxiously for her to speak, she spotted him off to the edge, a coy smile on his lips. At the other far side of the stage was Kom, when their eyes met, he ducked his head down to look away.

It took all her strength not to glare.

Instead, she turned to look at the man who had his camera raised, wires attaching it to his laptop. Streaming, no doubt. One of her followers had set up a private website to address each other, password protected so that only fellow Acolytes could access. She didn't know how secure that really was, but she also didn't care. There was also a screen set up behind her, hooked up to another technologically talented individual somewhere she couldn't see.

Kai watched as the hundreds of men and women, humans, witches and sorcerers rustled about, anxious balls of energy. She watched as they murmured and muttered to one another before finally raising her hand, watching Yuri gesturing something to the man with the camera.

The murmuring fell, rolling into a silence until only the wind and crunching snow was heard. She took in a breath.

"How many have family or friends whose children were taken by Death, by the Academy?" A quiet mumble as people whispered to one another, she let the initial buzz run its course. "Either hunted by the school, or taken in because they could turn into a weapon or possessed qualities to hunt witches. Children, might I remind you, children."

She continued to speak. Children were what made up a sizable chunk of Death's army. Teenagers, kids. Death sent children to hunt monsters that murdered adults, sent children to hunt witches and sorcerers. Wasn't there even a famous Death Scythe who had only been thirteen when he acquired the title? Yes, there was, a boy by the name of Justin Law, he had been thirteen, how crazy. How cruel. How fucking inhumane.

They hunted witches and sorcerers of all ages as well. It was no small rumor that Death had sent one of his meister-weapon pairs to hunt down Angela Leon. The poor girl was even younger than Maleko! Had it not been for that swordsman of hers, she would no doubt have died.

The screen behind her came to life as Kai kept talking, bringing up an image of a young boy with black hair and glasses, wielding some heavy looking glove like weapons. The images were clearly taken secretly, from an angel off to the side out of sight as the meister attacked the kishin egg. They kept flipping through until it landed on the weapons transforming into their human forms.

Two little kids in an orange and yellow hat. Younger than the usual twelve-year-old threshold that most of his soldiers began fighting at. As young as Maleko, perhaps as young as Angela.

Angry hisses and gasps rang out from the crowd before her.

"Is this the kind of 'God' you want running this world? A God who won't fight the wars he started, but rather sends your children to fight for him?" Kai was playing on the parental fear many had. Even if she didn't trust the mental stability of any who thought her a God, she trusted that they at least knew how morally disgusting it was to have children thrown into life or death situations such as this. Children shouldn't be handling weapons, shouldn't be fighting and killing, shouldn't be training to be soldiers. Children should be children. Playing, studying, having fights with their friends, making up, developing crushes and getting into trouble.

Before she'd met Maleko, she wouldn't have cared that Death used children as cannon fodder. But that changed. Now, as much as she hated them, she hated Death even more for using them.

How can someone who claimed to be 'good' do something so deplorable?

The screen behind her began to show members of his staff, his trusted leaders. "His personal 'Death Scythe' is a slut. An alcoholic manwhore who spends more time with hookers than doing his duty. One of Death's top meisters? Psychotic, treads the line of madness, at any moment he could easily snap and begin cutting up the students under his care, if he hadn't already," she was pacing the stage, her shoes clicking against the ice with each step. "A normal school would hardly let them anywhere near children. Yet Death has the two as the primary influences for weapons and meisters. The ones that these kids should aspire to be."

Kai continued yelling to the crow, marching and growing more heated with each point. Death was a coward, too afraid to leave his castle, unwilling to bend to others. Why should a God of Death rule humanity? He doesn't know the first thing about humanity nor mortality, why should he use their children as his soldiers? Brainwashes them into thinking they're doing something great, that it's a high honor to be spending their childhood, risking their lives when they're not even adults. Whatever law a country creates, Death and those associated with him are above. It doesn't matter if someone tells them 'no', he and his superiority complex are above it all.

The crowd was cheering, or rather screaming, already brought to rage by her opening on child soldiers that it didn't matter much else what she said, yet she kept talking, stoking the fires of her followers, fueling their rage and starving them for battle.

By the end, even Kai was grinning, an unsteady smile, but a smile nonetheless. She was breathing hard, her throat hurt, but she gazed upon the crowd and knew that this was it. "If Death wants us gone, then he will have to bring his armies here and fight us. Then, when all that comes back to him are corpses and coffins, he'll know that he's not above us."

Before her, the crowd broke into cries.

Maleko shook his head, speaks of water splattering all over as the towel hung around his neck. Maggie had sent him upstairs to take a bath and he had just finished it up. His small body shivered a little as he went from a warm tub to a chilly room. It was hard to get used to how much colder everything felt when he had his magic locked up, when he was left without his natural heat.

A shudder ran through him and Maleko hurried to crawl into the warm pajamas that Mickey was loaning him, then slipping his feet into fluffy bunny slippers.

He liked it here, he was going to miss the family when he finally moved on and continued his search for his mother. If she allowed it, he'd like to come and visit them again, thank them for taking care of him while he hid from Kim and Jackie.

Stretching, yawning, and scratching at his stomach, Maleko left the bathroom and began heading towards the stairs. It was too late to go outside and play, but it was too early to go to bed. Maybe he could ask Mickey if the two of them could go back to that game of his, he wanted to see how the teacher was going to get in trouble. Maybe he'd still get a chance to tear out his throat.

He smiled, his hair still damp, but his body warmer now as he approached the stairs, a hum on his tongue and a bob to his head. As he reached the first step, his entire body froze.

Ears perked, twitched, his eyes narrowed and his heart began to race. Hope flooding through him, followed by confusion. He wasn't mistaken, was he? This… this couldn't be, it had to be…

"Is this the kind of 'God' you want running this world?"

She was quiet, but the voice, the passion… Maleko recognized it so easily. Even though so much time had passed since he had last heard her talk, he'd never forget how she sounded, he'd recognize her no matter, whether it had been days or years.

"A God who won't fight the wars he started, but rather sends your children to fight for him?"

A wide smile spread across Maleko's face, his body was positively vibrating with energy, so much so that he didn't hear Taka's warning, instead he raced down the stairs, nearly falling down half of them in his haste. She was here, mama was here! Maleko was blinking back tears.

How had she found him? Maybe Taka brought her here, or she'd been searching for him all this time—of course she'd been searching for him! It didn't matter how, his mama was amazing! She finally found him, they could finally go home! This awful nightmare was finally over, it was over, she was here, she was really, really here! She was here!

He skidded into the living room. "Mama!" he cried out happily.

Except… she wasn't there. No sign of her, not even a trace of her scent.

"He's deserves neither respect nor love, he deserves nothing but scorn and wrath!"

It was Kai's voice, there was no doubt about it, she was there, she was talking, but at the same time, she wasn't there.

Robert, Maggie and Mickey had been huddled on the couch, and when Maleko came barreling down, they froze up and turned to him. Maleko watched as Maggie recovered herself and reached over to the laptop that sat on the coffee table, fiddling with it—then mama's voice was gone.

Maleko felt his heart drop. "Mama…? Where's mama?" he asked, desperately hoping for an answer, that she really was here, that he hadn't imagined it all.

"Asahi," Mickey began, staring at Maleko with a look of confusion and pity.

But then Robert stood up, brushing his hands against his pantlegs and coming around the couch to stand before Maleko. His face unreadable as he glanced towards the laptop. Maleko followed his gaze and saw Kai on the screen. "Your mama… huh?"

Authors Note: Well, guys. This story is almost done. It has 3-4 chapters left and then Wild Fire is complete. But, not to worry, I've still a sequel planned for this, so that this madness can continue.