A/N:

Haven't got much to say this time around. Please enjoy your latest installment!

Atem hustled to keep up with his charge, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black coat as the two walked at a brisk pace down an alleyway. The biting winter air was uncomfortable to breathe in, yet Atem did so heavily, almost relishing the pain it brought. It was with chagrin that he mentally reviewed the orders that he had begrudgingly let Akefia give him. He was allowed to follow along at least until they found the man they were looking for, at which point Atem would make himself scarce. It had been made clear to Atem from the very beginning of the day that this was a one-man mission, no matter what circumstances arose. Something about not wanting to scare off their target and blah blah bullshit. Atem wasn't happy with it at all.

He huffed indignantly at his thoughts, raising his eyes from the pavement to focus on what was in front of him rather than below him. A chuckle escaped his lips at how easily he could parallel that thought to his situation. Focus on the task ahead rather than issues either beneath him or otherwise not under his control. Atem thought that sounded awfully poetic of him, and he smirked smugly.

"What in Hell's name are you so damn proud about?" Akefia demanded in a hushed voice, not even turning his head to regard his superior.

Atem frowned slightly, affronted by his charge's reprimanding tone. "I'm not Marik, you waste of life. Don't talk to me in that tone."

Akefia looked back at him then, the look on his face suggesting that he was a bit startled. Atem thought it was laughably possible that Akefia had indeed forgotten who his tagalong was currently. The moment passed soon enough, however, and his subordinate turned away again with a wave of his hand.

They halted suddenly, first Akefia stopping short and Atem almost bumping into him. Akefia's head snapped to the right, and he peered out of the alleyway at something Atem couldn't see. "Showtime, Atem," he said simply, creeping out towards the mouth of the alley without another word.

With perfect reaction time, Atem deftly swung himself up onto a rusty fire escape that was leaning precariously off of a nearby building. With all the agility and silence of a cat, he climbed up and up until he was on top of the roof. It was a reasonable distance up, but this building was one of the smaller ones in the area. He'd be able to see perfectly what was going on from this height. Mentally congratulating himself on picking such an excellent spot, Atem dropped himself down and crawled over to the edge of the roof to overlook the scene before him.

Akefia wasn't anywhere in view, but a person of small build and stature was meandering slowly down the opposite sidewalk with seemingly no destination in mind. Atem immediately marked him as the one that his charge had been looking for. His hood was drawn up, and he seemed to be huddled into himself. Low tolerance for the cold weather could mean a number of things, but Atem's guess was that he was either leading a privileged life or had a delicate constitution. The third option, both, didn't escape his mind, however, but Atem deduced that he was probably just frail due to how tiny he looked.

The figure stopped abruptly and seemed to be staring towards the space between the two buildings where Atem could only theorize that Akefia was hiding in. Poorly, he amended with a touch of sadness. Either Akefia had wanted to be found or he hadn't disguised himself well enough.

The figure called out hesitantly, obviously unsure of what to make of being stalked by a stranger in the inner city. Atem watched as Akefia stepped out into the light, crossed the street, and came to a standstill beside the target. Akefia nudged the hood off of the other man, and Atem's eyebrows shot up as locks of snowy white hair identical to Akefia's tumbled down over his coat. So they were similar, exactly as Akefia had said. Interesting.

They exchanged words for a few moments, and Atem was starting to get a little bored. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone slinking along the alley the way they both had come earlier. He was very obviously armed and maybe slightly drunk. Atem snorted. Honestly, this town. His attentions turned back to Akefia and his companion, wondering in amusement how his charge would handle himself.

Akefia noticed him first, posture tensing as his head snapped towards the approaching man. Atem couldn't help but be amused at the fact that Akefia's lookalike, started by Akefia's obvious alarm, was now clutching the larger man's hand and edging behind him in obvious fear. "Hm," Atem said to himself aloud, voice barely over whisper, "Never would have pegged that bastard to go for the distressed damsel type." His calculating eyes hadn't missed the way that Akefia was handling his newfound acquaintance, treating him as if he were made of delicate crystal. "Interesting."

From what he could tell from up that high, the drunken idiot didn't seem to know who Akefia was, which marked him as even worse than an idiot. Akefia had something of a reputation amongst the inner city. You just flat out don't mess with anyone from Millennium unless you had a death wish, but you especially didn't cross paths with the infamous Akefia. Quite frankly, Atem was surprised that his charge hadn't slit the man's jugular with a throwing knife yet.

The reaction was instantaneous. One moment, their attacker was posturing and waving his knife around in the air. Then, Akefia said something with a disgusting grin on his face that would have made Atem shudder had he not seen it many times before. In a split second, the man was running for his life back the way he had come. Atem had half a mind to follow him and teach him that Millennium never let an opponent get away once a challenge was issued, but he was currently more interested in the relationship unfolding on the street below.

Akefia talked with the other man briefly again before leading him down the sidewalk by the hand. Atem watched them turn down a street and realized that they were headed out of the inner city. With an indignant huff, he straightened up and brushed off his pants. So, they were taking their little affair somewhere more private? Fine by him. He had damage control to do. Atem turned away and nimbly climbed back down the fire escape and onto the street below. Pausing a moment to listen for footsteps, he continued down the street.

Tracking the drunkard who had attempted to assault Akefia proved to be far easier than Atem would have hoped. The man was making no attempt to muffle the sounds of his movements at all, perhaps falsely believing that Akefia had been alone. Unsheathing the long, straight knife from the side of his leg, Atem stalked down a back alleyway, noting with disdain that, in the stranger's attempts to flee, he had overturned a few trash cans and numerous cardboard boxes. Smashed bottles littered the asphalt, as well. The indignity of it all left a bad taste in his mouth. Surely this man wasn't affiliated with any gang worth its salt.

After mere minutes, Atem came upon the stumbling idiot. He had been in the middle of pulling a flask out of his jacket pocket to no doubt take a swig of whatever he had been taking hits of all day when he noticed the presence of the powerful leader. Bloodshot eyes locked on to the poised form of Millennium's head and dilated in fear. "Who are you?" he called out, fear and alcohol making his speech slurred and weak.

"My name is Atem," he conceded politely and, in his opinion, quite graciously. Raising his knife up, he pointed it at the man's heart. "Fortunately for you, my friend spared your life earlier. I will have to talk to him about that. We of Millennium never let an adversary emerge from a challenge unscathed. Unfortunately for you, I'm here to do his job for him."

The man cringed, holding his head in his hands and waiting for Atem to strike. When nothing happened, he looked up in confusion.

Atem chuckled darkly at him. "Draw your weapon, sir, or were you not raised to fight fairly and honorably?"

With the deliberate slowness that only comes from one preparing to die, the man reached into his coat and pulled out a small pistol. Atem's eyes narrowed suddenly as he noticed the muscles in the man's arm tense in preparation to fire. In the blink of an eye, Atem was dodging to the left as a bullet came whizzing by his head, mere centimeters from where his forehead had been. "Impressive aim for a drunk," he muttered, drawing his arm back and throwing his knife with deadly accuracy. It imbedded itself deep into his enemy's chest cavity, felling him instantly. His body writhed for a few gruesome moments before stilling.

In the eerie silence that followed, Atem walked slowly up to the body and slid his knife free, letting loose a steady flow of hot, red blood that steamed in the cold air. He wiped it on the dead man's jacket before sheathing it in the strap on his leg. He was about to turn away, but something pinned on the man's jacket caught his eye. Stooping low, Atem examined it carefully, realizing that it was a logo of some sort. His eyes widened as he realized what it was. In a heartbeat, he had whipped out his phone and hit the first button on his speed dial.

On the third ring, a man's voice, level and deep, answered. "Kaiba here."

"Cousin, it is as we feared," Atem said gravely, "They are gaining momentum in the inner city; I just killed one of their underlings. He was drunk and probably not on duty, but he was wearing their emblem."

"You are certain?" Kaiba asked, voice betraying his uncertainty.

"Positive. I'll take the body in for examination?" he asked, nose wrinkling at the thought.

"Go ahead. It might yield some kind of information to us."

With that, he terminated the call and immediately began dialing a new number.

"Yo, boss?"

"Marik, I need you to call some underlings and get them to come pick up a body," he instructed before giving the address and telling him to be discreet about it. It wouldn't do to have the whole group in an uproar just yet. Trouble was afoot in Domino, and for once, Atem was concerned.