Author's Notes: Came back to this after struggling with the scenes for a few weeks. A breath of fresh air really helped.

Snow scowled as he watched the breath pas his lips. It was getting colder. His face was probably scarlet by now; god only knew how long it had been since he had been able to feel his cheeks. His ears were tingling, and his nose was beet red and stuffing up. The snow that melted in his hair was now pouring down his face like a cold sweat. He could feel the biting chill even through his jacket.

He swallowed a hard knot in the back of his throat and continued searching. The kid, a girl from what he had seen of her, was not wearing much more one of those glorified overly long, cut down the center t-shirts the Japanese called clothes. The temperature was still dropping, and the snow would not stop. He would have lost her tracks a few times if it were not for sheer dumb luck.

She was slowing down though. He could sense it. The first time he had caught up with her, she had dashed off like a bat out of hell. The second time too. The third time he could tell she was struggling to get away. She had scrambled on the ground, and had actually been able to grab her collar, but she threw some crud in his eyes. He scowled, berating himself inside his own head. He never should have let go…

The trail disappeared in the snow and he looked up, finding himself looking into an open alley. A major street was right in front of him. His heart fell in his chest. She had been avoiding them with a passion the entire time, it was foolish to think she would not take one eventually. He sighed heavily, collapsing back against a wall, once again berating himself in silence.

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“I need a toy.” The sales clerk looked at Snow as if he had grown a third eye in the center of his forehead. Snow sighed heavily, he hated when people gawked, “Yes, I speak Japanese. Now, I need a toy.”

The clerk came back to his senses, shaking off the initial shock, “S-sir?”

“I need a toy.” Snow repeated for the third time, his patience waning, “A little white lion, about this tall.” He motioned its size, watching as the clerk continued to stare at him like he had lost all sense. His mood darkened slightly, and he leaned forward over the counter, “My little girl lost hers, and she's very upset. I need to replace it, can you just get one for me?” He leaned back and away from the clerk, but kept his eyes on him as he forced a smile, “Please?”

The clerk nodded slowly, taking a few steps back before turning around to go search for the toy. Snow sighed, leaning back against counter and relaxing for a minute. He chuckled almost despite himself, “Twenty four hour toy stores,” He shook his head, “Only in Tokyo.”

The clerk returned, holding a lion plush, “Is this what you wanted?”

Snow plucked it from the clerk's outstretched hand, and nodded, “This should do.” He paused, “You wouldn't happen to have any red food coloring anywhere around here, would you?”

The clerk shook his head, still bewildered by the gigantic gaijin, “No sir… we don't sell that—”

Snow shook his head and smiled, pleased that at least half his job was done, “Don't worry about it, how much do I owe you?”

The clerk tapped his hand on the register and mumbled a total. Snow pulled out his wallet and tossed a small wad of bills at him, walking away. The man shouted something about change, but Snow chuckled, ducking under the doorway as he left. He stopped, leaning back against a wall, turning the fluffy, fuzzy, soft plush over a few times in his hands. He smirked in satisfaction, looking around for a moment. His enthusiasm dimmed as he realized the nearest twenty-four hour convenience store was about ten blocks away from being convenient.

“Might as well get moving…” He muttered, heading into an alley to cut through. “Maybe I'll be…” He stopped, catching the hint of movement behind him from the corner of his eye. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, opening them as he glanced over his shoulder to confirm that he was actually being surrounded.

“You shouldn't have come this way…” He heard a couple of people laughing, watching as they slowly advanced on him. He sighed again, watching one of them walk into the dim lighting of the alley, flicking out the blade of his knife like some cheesy scene from a gang movie.

He stared at the knife for a moment, and then looked at its owner. He calmly pocketing the doll and smiled wanly, “Ya know, I was thinking about hitting the supermarket… but red is red I suppose.”

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“Mika? Can you… hear me?” Ryota swallowed nervously, watching Mika's prone form. She had stopped screaming, at the least, but was slowly rocking back and forth, her head slowly shaking from side to side. He almost reached out to touch her, but she looked up at him with a snarl, snapping at his hand before it came anywhere near her. He slowly pulled back, “I'm sorry! I'm sorry Mika, I didn't mean to upset you.”

“You're not upsetting her.” A firm hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up at John. Ryota blinked, watching as the grizzled detective put a bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips, a rivulet spilling from his mouth and rolling down his chin. John pulled the bottle away and sighed, wiping his chin with his sleeve, “Kid, you couldn't upset her if you tried.”

“Kid, she is not upset with you.” John narrowed his eyes in warning, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slammed it against his hand a few times before pulling one out and lighting up. He took a long drag, pulling the cigarette away and exhaling the smock in a steady stream, looking down at Mika, “Right now, she's upset with the whole damn world, and there's nothing you or I could do about it.”

Ryota looked back at John, and then looked back at Mika, “There… was something I could have done… but I… didn't.”

“The doll thing?” John chuckled mirthlessly, “Yeah, I heard it from my room.” Ryota looked back at him in surprise and he waved it off, “Thin walls.”

Ryota looked away, bowing his head, “You must think I'm a horrible person…”

“No,” John murmured, blowing out a stream of smoke, “I think I'm a horrible person.” Ryota looked back at him in confusion, and John smiled at him, “You just don't want to lose a treasured possession.” John shook his head, “Don't worry kid, I don't think you did anything wrong. You just didn't want to watch the little nut turn your grandfather's gift into cotton confetti. I would have felt the same way if Snow had asked me to give up something I cared about.”

John nodded and smiled broadly, “Of course, since you're still playing with dolls at age sixteen, I'm going to label you a pussy.”

Ryota's smile disappeared and he looked back to Mika, “Thanks John,” he muttered with a scowl, “for a moment, I almost forgot who I was talking to…”

“Anytime kid.” John chuckled and smashed the remnants of the still lit cigarette out on top of Ryota's head. The kid screamed bloody murder, lunging to his feet and rushing from the room. John slowly closed the door behind him, leaving it open just long enough to see the kid duck into the bathroom before it finally clicked shut, locked.

He tipped his head from one side to the other, and then turned to face Mika, who was staring into space. He stared at her for a moment, watching as she slowly looked up at him, the awareness that he was in the room spreading through her consciousness like a wildfire. He stared at her straight faced, watching her eyes, looking into them to see if they still had that feral spark. A chill ran down his spine as he saw it. He narrowed his gaze, and then sat down before her, “Let's talk.”

Author's Notes: To clarify before I even begin John Smith is not the one who is training her vore. She would never refer to John as sensei. I have a very bad habit of using the same names, usually because I like the name. In this case, it came back to bite me in the ass a bit. Anyway… I hope you enjoyed, and remember, things can always get worse. Some jackass could put his cigarette out by smashing it into the back of your skull.