Marco was running around the road touching everything and greeting everyone. Label found it hard to believe there is someone out there who is wilder and more energetic than him. The folks greeted the small boy back and one middle-aged fellow even gave him a red fruit.

Label in contrast was met with mixed looks, some smiling and some frowning, but no matter which, the whole village knew him, as he made sure. Or so to say, because they only knew him by his deeds and rarely by name and he avoided saying his real name as much as he could, except when it slipped his tongue.

 The orphanage's windmill could now be seen in the distance behind them, as they made their way through the busy streets and stairs leading to the docks. The sound of waves and seagulls was getting clearer and the boys knew it is not too far away now.

Label was carrying two Toukoku fishing rods made from bamboo with a reel made in Vapeur Republic, a good few versatile baits for different kinds of fish.

“Wanna share?” asked the redhead kid, proudly presenting what he got a while ago.

“No, you can have it. I'm done with apples for a while.”

Marco didn't waste any time biting the fresh fruit. He chewed and jumped around.

“Hey, you should calm down while eating, or you'll choke,” his older brother scolded him.

“But yoo neve' kalm down Wabel..” Marco reminded him.

“You shouldn't speak with your mouth full either.”

“But yoo always shpeak with yo' mouth full bwo.... ahhh *cough, cough*”, he started coughing frantically.

“Ha. See? I told'ya!” Label crossed his arms victoriously. Enjoying for a moment how he was the one doing the scolding and being right for once.

“*cough, cough*”, the small boy was barely inhaling and waving for help.

“Hey, don't you choke on me now!” Label hurried and slammed him on the back, which made him cough up the small piece. “You okay?” he asked, regretting his gloating.

“I'm ok...” said the boy and then he realized his older brother's help made him drop his sweet treat that was now rolling in the dust by his feet.

“*sniff*”, the tears were incoming, “W-waaaaah!” he got all red in the face as he started bawling.

“Ow...sorry about that. I overdid it a little. Look, how about this… I'll buy you a pear on the way home, eh?”

* * *

There were plenty of different ships docked today. In the distant shade of the cape was floating an Emnikatian ship. What it was doing there, Label did not know, but he was intrigued by its different shape and sails, as its flag featuring a white cobra with magenta colored eyes was flapping on the afternoon breeze.

Meanwhile, Marco was already at the end of one of the wooden docks, waving and calling Luk, an old fisherman who would take them out to sea today, as he promised Inala.

He rowed his simple two-seater back to meet them.

“Ahoy, good day to ya!” smiled the old man.

Luk was out on the sea every day since he was born and fishing was more natural for him than sleeping, although he would sometimes tend to do both at the same time.

“Hi, sorry we're late. Mom said you would take us to try something different than lake today?” asked Label while Marco was already halfway in the boat.

“Indeed I will. Can't have you, lads, fishing in rivers an' lakes forever. Time to learn the difference.”

“Tank yoo mishter Luk,” Marco was showing his upbringing, but the man waved it off, “I'm just happy there's someone who will listen to this old fool's blabbering willingly,” smiled the man.

Hours passed as the two boys learned how to wait patiently, observe and pull the fish out after it bites. Special care was taken to explain to the smaller fellow that he shouldn't fight fishes that were too heavy for him to pull out properly.

That wasn't the case for Label as he already impressed Luk with the size of the fish he took out. No less than a Flathead Mullet, a weight of four kilos, marked the end of fishing as the sun was getting ready to set all too soon.

“You're an exceptional young lad, Label and strong as a bull. Maybe that is why your parents named you after the Lord himself,” Luk watched as the blond fellow stood proudly displaying his big catch.

“Thanks,” he put the fish into the bucket, “but I never knew my real parents. Inala took care of me as far as I can remember and I consider her to be my mother. Although she says I knew my name since the day she found me... Oh! I almost forgot! We were told to give you half of the catch, as thanks for teaching us and lending your boat.”

Label picked up the bucket and prepared to pour half of it into Luk's own, but he felt the old man's blistered hand on his elbow, his face smiling and shaking in disagreement; “Thank you lads for a wonderful afternoon. The only company this old fool usually has are fishes and seagulls.”

Marco and Label looked at each other and then smiled back at the good old man.

They thanked him once again and left Luk to tide up the boat. The sun was already kissing the sea and waves were getting sleepy in their rhythm. The sea was all red except close to the ships on the docks where it looked black and cold. All of the village was preparing to take a rest from work, in pubs and homes where beer and dinner were served respectively.

The older brother carried the equipment and a bucket full of fish while Marco was making gestures in the air as if he was eating something.

“No, I didn't forget. You were very good today and deserved your treat. I'll buy you a pear as promised... Oh, but we have to hurry before everything is closed!” Label wasn't thinking in time.

“There you go. You fellas came at the last moment,” the stand owner passed the fruit to Marco and he smiled at Label happy that he kept his promise. The stand closed and the boys were on their way through now almost empty streets.

The only commotion was coming from the pubs at the sides of the road where a middle-aged bartender with a big mustache was chasing out three youngsters, “You lads are still too young to be drinking! You should head home, I'm surprised your parents let you stay out this late.”

“Piss off old man!” “Yeah, stop yo' preachin' and serve us a beer!” the teenagers were protesting.

Label tried to speed up the pace as he's seen trouble brewing, but he caught the eye of the third one.

“Hey, kid! Yeah, you, see anybody else around? Wha'cha got there, a pear? Gimme' it!” the tall boy towered over poor Marco, as he pulled his pear closer and looked at his older brother for help.

Label caught his look and then met the mean fellow's gaze, “Look, I'm sorry but I can't take his snack now that he's already started eating it. I can give you guys some fish if you are hungry,” he showed them the bucket.

“What's that? You think I'm some starvin' orphan or somethin'?” he kicked the bucket and it spilled over the ground, his hands in the pockets, looking down on Label as he started collecting the food from the dust and putting them back.

Marco started crying, but the older brother consoled him; “It's ok, we'll wash them and they'll be just fine.”

The bartender grabbed the mean boy by his collar, pulled him back, and slapped him across the face.

The teen put a hand on his red cheek and the other two started closing in on the man, “Wha'cha do that for?” “Yea', apologize!” but the mustache man rolled his sleeve, “Bring it on...” and the boys stepped back.

From the pub, others who heard the commotion emerged at the door, “Having trouble Sam?”.

“No, I can handle punks like these any day,” he cracked his knuckles and headed straight towards them.

“Tsk... C'mon, let's get outta' here!” said the boy, still holding his painful face and the other two followed him into an ally, running away.

Sam dusted his palms off the punks and turned to Marco, “You have a very brave brother,” he ruffled his hair and Marco liked it. “Let me wash those fish for you, kid,” he took the bucket and Label thanked him.

In a few minutes, the boys were on their way again and the people from the pub went back to what they enjoyed the most. Drinking and playing cards.

The night has already started and a beautiful starry sky could be seen above the village.

“Sure is pretty,” said the boy as countless lights reflected in his big eyes. The smaller child has finished eating long ago and was now held by his guardian's grey shirt, patched all over with some different colors.

“It's ok, we're almost home, see the windmill over there?”

“Yea, I see,” replied Marco happily before something blocked his view.

His expression changed into sudden fear as he recognized the figure that emerged from the corner of one of the houses.

“Fancy meetin' you again,” said the tall boy, his arms crossed in front of them. “Come on, let's go this way,” Label pushed his brother in a different direction.

He looked over his shoulder, but the tall boy was just standing there, leaning on the wall.

“Hurry,” he said quietly and paced up as much as he could while still carrying all the equipment and food.

They took the stairs down to try and get away as soon as possible, but going back they saw the other two boys were already waiting for them. Label turned quickly to go back up the stairs but the tall boy was already blocking the way, now looking even taller.

“There's nowhere to run, kid,” he descended the stairs slowly.

“You're in trouble now, pal,” one of the other two was patting a plank in his palm.

Label put everything down on the ground, “At least… Let my brother go,” he looked at them pleading, as Marco was trying to hide behind him.

“No one goes anywhere, till we're all fair and square,” the tall boy took a knife from his pocket, “How 'bout I ruin your face now?”

“I did nothing wrong to you,” Label's eyes squint a bit, his voice low.

“Oh a feisty one,” the two boys, were approaching from the back.

Label whispered to Marco, “Listen, when I say 'run', you head home as fast as you can and don't look back, got it?” but Marco looked at him, fear and confusion fighting inside his teary eyes, still, he nodded.

“Hey, what are you whispering abou—”

His shouting was interrupted as he exhaled all of the air from his lungs while the knife dropped to the ground with a simple 'clang'.

The last thing he saw before collapsing was a blurry image of a blond boy retracting a fist from his solar plexus and he heard a muffled “Run!” as the boy turned his back and headed down the stairs.

Marco ran up and looked at the fellow who was now lying on the floor. He took one last worried look at his brother, who gestured for him to go.

The small boy nodded and wiped some tears, right before disappearing around the corner.

“Hey, what happened to Danny? He's out cold!”

“You'll regret this kid!” he charged and swung his plank. Label crossed his arms above the head and the thing hit him hard, but instead of dazing him, pieces of wood were flying everywhere.

“I-it broke…” he said looking at the part still in his hand. As he wasn't paying attention, he got his shin kicked.

He first gasped and then screamed, falling to the ground. He held beneath his knee, not believing the pain.

He saw blood when checking the palms with which he felt the warm liquid, tightened his jaw, and closed his eyes. How could a kick from a kid hurt this much?

The third boy was going backward, his hands in front of him, as Label approached him, his gentle blue eyes now angry.

“Hey, look... w-we were just messin' ok?” he tripped on a crate, but managed to hold himself standing, “We wouldn't really hurt you. W-we just wanted to scare you, alright?” he realized a wall was behind him.

“Scare me?” the short boy looked up close at the teen. “Are you scared now?” he asked him and the punk nodded with a quiet, “Y-yeah..” swallowing in fear.

“How do you like it?” Label asked him without breaking eye contact.

“P-p-please, stop! I'm sorry, look I swear I wouldn't hurt you. They made me do this,” he started sobbing as he crouched down, arms crossed on his knees.

Label turned to the one on the floor, who was still holding his leg and rolling in pain. “It will heal. I didn't break it... this time,” he picked up the backpack and the bucket and went up the stairs. As he reached the top, he noticed the fellow who collapsed wasn't there and the knife was missing as well.

Marco!!!...

He ran as fast as he could, trying to catch up with the boy. I hope he didn't find him...

Taking a sharp left, his fears seemed to have come true. The tall teen was holding Marco by his mouth and when he noticed Label, put the knife close to the child's face.

Label’s heart was torn apart as he saw Marco’s frightened eyes looking at the knife. What's worse, two other of the teen's pals came from the dark of the alleys and flanked Label who was now just standing still.

He dropped the backpack and the bucket as the first punch landed. The bald fellow who delivered it looked at his painful fist with a confused look, “He's a freakin' nomad!”.

The boy with the knife grinned and made an order with a nod of his head. On his command, the others approached Label. Normally could take care of a few punks like these. Even though he was just a boy, being a nomad would have made it easy, but he couldn't take any chances and risk aggravating them. Marco's well-being was much more important to him than any pride.

The first hit broke the stick on his shoulder and he hardly flinched. The second one, to his knee, got him down on all four and with every consecutive hit, he was closer to the dirt until his face finally touched the ground.

Marco tried to look away but his captor put the knife closer and made him watch. His brother was now lying on the ground, but what finished him was a hit with a rock to the head.

They were kicking him on the floor when suddenly one of them noticed something approaching from an alley.

“Hey, guys…” he patted his mate on the shoulder.

“What in the…?” the lad squint his eyes trying to discern a silhouette, “It’s a bloody fox! A rabid beast!”

“Look there’s more of them. They must ‘ave sniffed out the blood!” he started to panic a bit as more and more eyes kept creeping through the darkness of the village streets.

“But what are them foxes doing so far in? Never mind, we gotta scram!”

The scoundrels started running away, but the teen that released Marco picked up the fishing rods while kicking the bucket and spilling the contents on the ground again, just before disappearing into the dark.

Label’s head was hazy and his vision blurred.

Is that a… fox? he crawled closer to Marco and hugged him protectively.

What seemed like a paw reaching out to him soon became a human hand that caressed him gently.

“You will be alright, mon ami,” spoke a young girl’s voice through a fox-shaped mask.