Author's notes: A Little Fall of Rain is a part of the Mythverse alternate universe, which began with Exordium and Stone Dead (also found in my author profile). It takes place a year and a half before them.
Kaito's mother has no official name or occupation in canon, but here she is named Mizuki and works as a nurse.
Rated T for content and some language.

A Little Fall of Rain

The sky was crying.

Kaito wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk, hands jammed in his pockets and hunched over slightly against the freezing February drizzle. He didn't really care where he was going, so long as it wasn't home to the empty house.

He ignored the rain dampening his clothes and beading on the exposed skin of his arms. He was probably going to wake up with a cold in the morning, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care about that, either... not when Seiji wasn't going to wake up at all. He'd ruined his jacket trying to keep Seiji alive for the ambulance, so it seemed... fitting... to have left it covering the older man's face in the end.

The pair of dirks hanging sheathed from his belt, handles trapped against his hips by the inside of his wrists, should have been a comforting weight. They weren't. Today they'd been damn useless.

Just like him.

"Oh, hell..."

While Kaito had no destination for his feet in mind, that didn't mean he'd tuned out his surroundings. A Hunter that let himself zone, given that ambushes were a common occurrence in a profession that chased down the more dangerous human and Otherkin criminals for the police, was a dead Hunter. Consequently, the muttered epithet from nearby didn't escape his notice, but he didn't deem it worth paying attention to until the same speaker raised his voice.

"Hey, kid!"

Kaito's head snapped up as instinct and adrenaline kicked in, hands wrenching out of his pockets to grab the handles of his dirks in the split-second it took to unerringly pinpoint the source of the voice. When he saw that the person was a human, standing beneath an awning a little ways down the sidewalk in a non-threatening stance, he relaxed out of his defensive half-crouch but left his hands still loosely grasping the leather handles. The man seemed to be practically radiating "I'm harmless" vibes, but he was still nearly a foot and half taller than Kaito's nearly-five and easily twice his weight, with an athletic build for good measure.

"What?" Kaito asked, warily.

The older man—maybe thirty or so, brown hair and dark eyes, like Seiji—smiled slightly, a friendly gesture—but Seiji would never smile again...

"You keep going like that, you're gonna drown or walk in front of a car."

"It's not raining THAT hard..." Kaito smiled, but knew it wasn't very convincing even before the man raised a skeptical eyebrow in response.

"No, but I've seen that look before. Come on, I'll buy you something hot and you can talk about it. Or I can call the cops and they can call your parents."

...It was a guess. It HAD to be a guess. Kaito wavered briefly between incredulity and dark amusement at the man's attitude, trying to figure out what he could possibly be playing at. There was no reason this man could know that the police were the last people in the world that he wanted to meet right now. The trio that had arrived at the scene of the Hunt gone bad had taken one look at Kaito and wanted to take him home or, barring that, contact his parents. Mizuki was working at the hospital and hardly needed to be interrupted by a phone call mid-shift when there wasn't anything she could do, since leaving work was... not impossible, but a bad idea. Bills still had to be paid.

Kaito had escaped by giving them his Hunter's License number, and promising to head home on his own and give a statement in a few days about what had happened to an officer at the station. But if this guy brought the cops in again, they probably wouldn't let him off on his own for a second time.

Apparently it was an adult thing.

Cops aside, the man was looking at Kaito and still waiting for him to make something of a Hobson's choice. Kaito crossed his arms.

"I don't even know you, mister."

"Maboroshi Cade. Currently deciding whether or not to move back from the States." With slow deliberation—to not startle him, Kaito realized, which irked slightly even though he knew he was on edge—the man reached into one of his jacket's inner pockets and pulled out a business card, then closed the gap between them to an arm's length with a few long strides, holding out the rectangular piece of cardboard.

Kaito took the card, holding it up slightly to keep the man in his peripheral vision while he read the double lines of English and Japanese characters, printed in simple black and white.

Cade Maboroshi, Ph. D
幻 ケイデイー Ph. D

LVPD Profiler

LVPD プロファイラ

There was a phone number and email address as well. He looked back over.

"LVPD?" He sounded the English letters out carefully, trying to minimize any accent. He had a decent grasp of English, but he read it better than he spoke it.

"Las Vegas Police Department."

"...You're a criminal profiler. Why should I talk to you?"

"A, I'm a licensed psychologist, not just a profiler. B, even if I weren't, talking helps. If you're wandering around Tokyo alone looking like a cop who just lost his partner, you could use a sympathetic ear." The man raised an eyebrow. "So what'll it be, coffee or cops?"

Kaito gave Maboroshi a somewhat disgruntled look that went ignored. "Coffee."

"Sounds good to me. Come on, there's a café just up the street." He half-turned, waiting for Kaito reach his side before walking forward. Over the short distance to the cafe, Kaito couldn't help but notice that Maboroshi shortened his stride to keep them both exactly even — not pulling ahead, like a person establishing control, or trying to fall behind, to where Kaito couldn't track his movements.

He even entered the café first, turning and holding the door open from just inside for Kaito to step through, before Kaito could even think about retreating.

Kaito grudgingly admitted, in the privacy of his own mind, that the man was good.

The waitress of the small establishment took one look at Kaito and disappeared into the back, calling over her shoulder for them to sit wherever they wanted. She came to their table carrying a towel for Kaito to use to dry himself off, then rounded on Maboroshi.

"What were you thinking, letting your son walk in the rain without a coat?"

Kaito stiffened, bristling, but before he snap out a response to the misguidedly overzealous young woman, Maboroshi flashed a charming smile in her direction.

"I can't change a young man's choices. Could we have a menu?"

"I... but... yes, all right, please wait one moment..." Visibly deflated by his smooth deflection of her indignation, the girl retrieved two menus from the entrance and laid them on the table.

The older man didn't even bother glancing through the one in front of him before looking at the waitress. "I'd like a black coffee, extra strong."

The girl nodded dutifully, then turned to Kaito. "And you? Or do you need a few minutes?"

Kaito skimmed the list of drinks. "The biggest cafe mocha you have. Extra chocolate." One of the more expensive drinks, since Maboroshi was buying, and, well... chocolate. The Greek gods could keep their fire and their ambrosia — if anything was going to redeem the day's mess into even a remotely decent situation, it would be chocolate. "And a slice of chocolate cake."

The girl glanced uncertainly at Maboroshi, but the man was simply grinning at Kaito as if he'd expected Kaito's gambit, and she sighed and went away.

Kaito settled back into his side of the booth, setting the business card on the table by his placemat. "Why are you thinking of coming back to Japan?"

"Well, I'm burnt out on police work, and there's only so much guys like me are good for. Got a job offer here that looks like a pretty good fit."

"Doing what?" If he was going to have to talk before he could go, Kaito at least wanted to know more about who Maboroshi was... including the odds of ever running into him again.

"School psychiatrist."

"Where? And how'd you get a job offer here if you're in Las Vegas, anyway?" He'd never been to that part of the United States, but he knew where the city was. Dad had done a show there, once, before... Kaito shoved the thought away.

"They looked me up after I gave a presentation at a Psychology conference last year. Ever hear of the DDS?"

The Dan Detective School was famous throughout Japan as an elite, exclusive school for professional detectives. The yearly entrance examination had a reputation for being as rigorous in the areas relevant to being a successful detective as the Hunter's Exam in Hokkaido, which was notorious for being so much harder than the standard exam that only the best of the best could even dream of passing. Flashing a DDS-issued notebook at a crime investigation got the bearer as much respect from police and bystanders as a Hunter's license afforded in any situation involving Clan.

Had Maboroshi known Kaito was a Hunter that would have been a daft question, since overlapping jurisdictions meant a Hunter in Japan was bound to meet a DDS student or graduate eventually. More than a few DDS students were also Hunters, as well. Still, there was no reason for the man to expect Kaito to know. A civilian carrying unconcealed weapons wasn't unheard of and Kaito hardly fit the typical Hunter profile. Most Hunters were older, like Seiji—

Kaito nodded, carefully keeping his expression neutral. "Yeah. ...They want you?"

He gave Maboroshi an assessing look. Dan Morihiko only hired the best for his school staff.

"I have a specialization in adolescent psych as well as profiling. A pretty good mix for a school like that, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, not all the students there are under twenty, but yeah." Kaito paused as the waitress brought their order, then retreated again. He immediately took a sip of his coffee, not caring that it burned all the way down to his stomach. It was sweet, and it was hot.

"And I guess not only can you consult on cases if they ask," he continued, "but you can tell who of the students will be a decent detective" —in both senses of the word— "if taken off the leash, once they graduate, ne?"

"That's the plan, anyway." Maboroshi took a drink of his undoctored coffeee.

Kaito gave a little nod of approval. Sneaky, but effective. "It's understated, but if people really thought about it they'd realize you're evaluating them as much as helping them deal with," he hesitated almost imperceptibly, "their job."

He looked down at the table, casually refocusing on his cake and coffee to block out the images from earlier in the afternoon.

"... Now it's your turn." Maboroshi leaned back in his seat, watching Kaito. "What's got you out walking in the rain like you don't care if you drown?"

Kaito slowly took another drink, both hands wrapping around the warmth of the cup even after he set the cup back down on the table. He stared into the dark liquid. A lie wouldn't work with this man.

"...The Hunter I was working with died this morning, taking down our Mark."

But not immediately. And not slowly enough that anything Kaito could do actually made a difference in whether or not the man survived.

"You an apprentice?"

Kaito snorted faintly. "I've been licensed for the last six months."

"How old ARE you?"

A note in Maboroshi's voice prompted Kaito look up, silent challenge in his eyes. He got enough flack from other Hunters and the police, he didn't need it from civilians, too. What WAS it with adults? Only a handful of Hunters, the ones who had taken the exam with him, took him seriously... and the police couldn't argue with a license, but they didn't bother to hide their disapproval of his youth, either.

"Almost thirteen."

Four months away was almost, right?

"Wow. You must have busted your ass to pass the test."

"It's not that hard if you know what you're doing," Kaito answered with a dismissive shrug.

"Still takes a lot of work." Maboroshi swirled the coffee in his cup a little, studying Kaito. "You must have wanted something pretty badly."

"I wanted to be licensed."

"Why?" There was no disapproval in his tone, only interest. It even sounded genuine.

"...I'm looking for someone."

Maboroshi raised an eyebrow. "Who do you want to find that badly? Because you had to know going in how likely you are to die."

The average life expectancy of Hunters was low even by law enforcement standards. Ten-year veterans were a rarity in the profession, and retirement was typically due to disability or death. Mostly death, on hunts that went bad.

Kaito gave the psychologist a cool look, not saying anything. Maboroshi wasn't going to get an answer to that particular question after only twenty minutes' acquaintanceship.

After holding Kaito's gaze for a few seconds, the older man inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. "How did your partner die?"

Kaito looked down at the tabletop and took a bite of chocolate cake, letting rich and sweet smother too-fresh memories. "Knife wound. He bled out before the paramedics could arrive."

Maboroshi was silent for a long moment. "It's been raining all day. Is that how you lost your jacket?"

Kaito flinched, muscles tensing and hands that had only just wrapped around his coffee cup visibly tightening as the comment breached his mental walls and memory flashed with eidetic clarity.

Naga's body behind them in the alley, bullet in the base of his skull because he'd turned his back on a man not quite dead—

Seiji on the ground with a smoking derringer in one limp, burned hand, clothes and torso torn by a deep, jagged rip—

Warm blood staining cold ground and cold hands and wet coat—

 Pressure staunching trying not good enough—

Seijismilingcoughingdying—

notgoodenough—

dying—

—"Find a better partner next time, kid"—

dying...

Kaito squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the images invading his thoughts. "I tried..."

The whisper slipped out accidentally, a reminder to himself more than an admission to Maboroshi.

Maboroshi chose to interpret it as spoken to him. A few moments later he replied, gently, "But sometimes there's nothing you can do."

Kaito took another drink of coffee, shoving memory down and away and retreating behind a comforting blanket of numbness.

"Mmm."

"Hardest thing for anybody, Hunter or Cop, to learn," the profiler continued. "You can't save everybody. You can only do your best and live with it when you fail." He paused, and Kaito felt the man's gaze on him even with his head bowed. "Keep shoving it all down like that, and sooner or later you'll explode. And you're dangerous enough to hurt a lot of people if you snap."

...What kind of response was the man hoping for? That he already knew? He did, he just...

There was no one to talk to. He wasn't close to any of his classmates—not since Aoko-kun's mom had left Tokyo with her, just after he'd turned eight—and couldn't bring himself to worry mom with any of this, and while old man Jii had taught him how to survive as a Hunter, it'd only been under protest. Kaito didn't want to give either of them reason to try and make him stop.

He couldn't stop.

Not yet.

Maboroshi broke Kaito's pained silence. "Talk to me. Professional confidentiality."

"...It really helps?"

"Promise."

Kaito swallowed, keeping his gaze on the table. Maybe it was worth a try.

"It... it was just supposed to be a normal hunt. One Naga. The bastard was listed on the Hub last month, Tokyo area. Arrested for murder, got out and ran. ...Seiji-san tagged him as a Mark. We'd taken the Hunter's exam together, he knew what I could do... was one of the ones who offered work together with me if we were interested in the same Mark. In November we brought in a Wood Elf cursecaster together, so I called him and we joined forces. It was three weeks, tracking... Seiji-san had all the contacts—" Jii-chan still refused to give Kaito access to his information network "—and I did a lot of the legwork and interviews."

He paused, taking another sip of coffee.

That was the easy part. Facts, history... memories of getting tips for how to get around security systems... of sharing the fruits of his obsessive studies of the different Clans... of getting his hair ruffled, even when he smacked Seiji each time for mussing his already unruly spikes.

"...We caught up with him this morning. Seiji-san was primary, I was backup. ...But it went wrong."

"What happened?" Probing... but not harsh.

"He heard us coming. Ran again, baited us. Pulled a snagtooth once we were in the alley..." Naga favored that style of sword, with twin notches in the blade that resembled fangs, and could be particularly nasty to skin and muscle. "I hit him with a tranq dart, but he bit himself before it could drop him."

For Maboroshi's benefit, since it wasn't common knowledge, Kaito added, "Their own venom won't kill them. It burns out most foreign agents in their bloodstream."

"I see."

"Seiji-san fought him. But he couldn't—" Kaito's voice wavered slightly. "He couldn't avoid the fire."

In the confines of the alley, maneuvered to standing in front of the alley's dead end rather than the entrance, there'd been nowhere and no time for Seiji to dodge. It had all happened so fast... The moment the fighting pair had switched places, Seiji no longer standing between Kaito and the Naga, Kaito'd attacked, dagger out and aimed at the Mark's seemingly unprotected back. The Naga had half-turned and caught Kaito in the chest with his non-dominant hand, using the longer reach of an adult to his advantage to throw Kaito sideways into the concrete wall of the alley. Half-stunned by the impact, Kaito hadn't been able to do more than watch as in the same fluid movement, the Naga used that hand to summon and throw a fireball at Seiji before the man could press any advantage.

"You instinctively try to block something like that, if you can't dodge... it burned his hand too bad to keep hold of his axe. And without a weapon, he couldn't block the sword." Kaito hunched his shoulders a little, staring into his coffee. "The Naga figured he was done for, turned to deal with me... Seiji-san had a derringer. He only needed one bullet."

"I tried," Kaito whispered again. "Called for an ambulance. Couldn't stop the bleeding." The wound had simply been to big.

"You did what you could. That's what you hold on to, even when it doesn't feel like enough."

"...I guess."

"And it helps to talk. You feel any better?"

Kaito considered, finishing the last of his coffee. It still hurt, but... some of the unbearable pressure had eased.

"A little."

"All right." Maboroshi snagged his business card and scribbled on it briefly, then slid it back across the table. "The bad days aren't going to stop. You know that, right? Whenever you need to talk or just blow off steam, come to the school or give me a call. I'll make time for you, and I'm willing to work pro bono."

Kaito blinked. "I thought you hadn't decided if you were gonna stay in Japan."

"I've decided."

A look of wary incredulity crossed Kaito's face. "What... because of me?"

"Nah. I was leaning towards it anyway. The fact that you're here and possibly other kids like you might need me... that made up my mind. I'll be sticking around for a while."

...You can't know that for sure.

"...Why are you offering this?" Kaito tapped the business card with a finger.

"Because I hate to see kids or people fighting the good fight self-destruct. I won't ask you to stop Hunting, but I want to make sure you stay stable doing it."

"I already passed the psych evals for the Hunter's exam."

"It doesn't stop there and you know it. You want to keep your license longer than a year, you pass 'em as part of your application for renewal. It's the exact same workup you went through the first time, and now you'll have a year's worth of memories of dealing with the worst of society."

Kaito eyed Maboroshi. Adolescent profiler, and Las Vegas was a big enough city to host a Hunter's exam each year. "You used to work the exam?"

Maboroshi nodded. "I've seen a lot of people burn out."

And he thought Kaito needed this.

"..Okay, then." Kaito picked the card off the table and pocketed it.

"So." Maboroshi leaned back in his side of the booth. "You can call me Cade, or Dr. M. What's your name?"

Kaito looked up at Cade, and his lips quirked in an almost smile. Maybe today wasn't a total loss after all. "I'm Kaito. Kuroba Kaito. ...Nice to meet you, Cade-san."

-End.

Cade Maboroshi belongs to Ellen Brand. He's in the Mythverse because DC/MK follows the TV Trope that There Are No Therapists, and heaven knows the DC world desperately needs one to keep the characters from falling apart under stress. Credit to her for helping with his dialogue in this fic.

Glossary:
Hunter: Semi-official retainers of law enforcement agencies worldwide, who specialize in bounty-hunting criminals of the Clans at all levels of offense. Licensure is regulated and must be maintained after passing the initial exam. Predominantly Human, but a significant number are Clan.

Otherkin: A Human term for Clan of clinical/scientific origin and can be used derogatorily.

Clan: All-encompassing term for any of the races of supernatural creatures, a reference to the predominent social structure. Most Clan have a natural form, with the ability to shift into and maintain a humanoid form. Used mostly for full-bloods, but can include partial-blood Clan. Clan have at least one physical tell, even in human form, to demark their Clan. Some may try (and succeed) in hiding it, but that's rare. Most Clan's tell(s) includes the eyes in some way.

Hunter's Exam: A comprehensive assessment given in major cities once a year, at staggered intervals, to prove that a potential licensee is qualified to tangle with Clan without getting themselves killed. Includes physical, psychological, and practical assessments, as well as an in-depth assessment of one's knowledge of the different Clans. Difficult to pass in any city, but some cities are much more difficult to pass than the average. To have a license issued from such a city is a prestige marker.

Mark: A Hunter's target. Usually a felon of the Clans, but sometimes a Human—especially if a Hunter becomes corrupted. Captured alive for prosecuting if possible, but sometimes the mark's abilities and behavior necessitates the use of lethal force in order to subdue it.

Naga: Half-snake, half-humanoid Clan with the ability to shift fully into either form. Flame-wielders.

The Hub: The Hunter's forum within the larger Law Enforcement network and a prime source of information. Wanted criminals are listed and pertinent information from past histories to links into their police records to tips on current whereabouts are found there. Hunters 'tag' a Mark when they decide to pursue it, so other people interested can either contact them about joining forces or just being aware that they have competition.

Wood Elf: Clan indigenous to Europe, who rarely immigrate and prefer to inhabit forested country. Light-skinned and gifted in the use and understanding of the nature of blessings, curses, and oaths.