Author's Note: After a long, long time, the sequel to A Streetrat's Tale is up. Kibin Okami messaged me some time ago, wanted to see if I wanted to continue the story and here is the first chapter. For those who are returning after…what, three years? Whatever, it's good to have you back. For those new, I recommend checking out A Streetrat's Tale first. Most of the stuff in here won't make sense without reading that fic first. To make things more clear, some time has passed since the end of A Streetrat's Tale, two years to be precise and some events not covered by either story have occurred. This will be touched upon but not really explored, as they are not too important. It's just to show that yes, things have been happening between the two stories. Anyway, enjoy.

Kiban Okami: It's about time we finally got to this, eh? As Anon already explained, a lot has happened between our last fic and this one but much of it will be hinted at. We also have a number of new characters that I've gotten pretty well attached to for a number of years now. Mainly because I've used them before for other concept ideas but I thought they would work well very well in this fic as well. There are a number of characters that Anon brought in as well that I'm excited about. Without further ado, enjoy!

Disclaimer: We do not own Gundam Wing.

Warning: language, spoilers for A Streetrat's Tale

Konnichiwa Japan!

Magic, everyone has heard of magic. A source of power than can enable seemingly normal humans to perform outrageous and fantastical feats. For thousands of years, humans have known of it, practiced it, and used it for simple tasks to wondrous displays of power that can change the landscape of the planet Earth.

In some cases, magic takes many forms from control of the countless elements, the manipulation of the physical world, to the reaches of that which is beyond the realm of the living. Some individuals stand out from others, becoming more than mere magicians and practitioners. Some through effort achieve this while others are born into it.

Of these individuals, none is more mysterious or dreaded than the Death Mage. The Death Mage is a human selected by the entity known solely as Death, the possessor of many names and the ultimate winner of the game that is life, and this human is in turn gifted with the ability to use the powers of death to its will. None have ever puzzled out why such a being exists or for what purpose the Death Mage serves but most fear it while others worship it.

Over the centuries, humans slowly began to leave it, turning to a new form of understanding their world, the ways of science. From rural society, cities emerged and from them came the eventual creation of space colonies that drift through the endless void of Outer Space. Magic, however, is ethereal and not completely subject to the laws and understandings of physics. In one form or another, it has managed to remain practiced and used, a secret culture and society forming around its tenets.

One thing that has remained constant is the presence of a Death Mage.

It is impossible to tell just who is the Death Mage or why this person is chosen. In this lifetime, the current Death Mage goes by the name of Duo Maxwell, one of the five infamous Gundam pilots and the self-titled God of Death, a hero to some and a mass murderer to others. Since childhood, he has been stalked by Death, those around him always coming to lethal if not violent ends. Only as he has reached maturity has young Duo become aware of what he is.

Of those who have had the misfortune to pass away, a fellow young street urchin named Solo has managed to defy the odds and survive Death's presence due in part to the timely intervention of a man named Adrian Branwen. Amazed at the powers that this man possessed, Solo convinced his savoir to teach him abilities so that he could use them to help other suffering streetrats on his home colony in the L2 sector.

Solo emerged from his magical education only to find that the world had changed and was no longer the one he knew. With the unexpected death of his savoir-turned-mentor, Solo ventured out into this brand new world, seeking out Duo Maxwell who had only just survived the end of a horrific war.

The two young streetrats, pulled apart by tragedy, would soon find one another and reunite.

Unfortunately, their reunion was only short-lived. Unbeknownst to them, an enigmatic organization known as The Collective had learned of what Duo was, that he was to be this generation's Death Mage. With plans to dominate all humanity, The Collective has been pursuing the Death Mage for millennia, relentless and determined.

With the threat of his newly awakening powers being used to destroy all he had fought for, Duo went into hiding along with his old friend and the other four Gundam pilots. Of these pilots, only Quatre Winner had any knowledge of the Death Mage due to his family serving as guardians for this particular magic-user. With his expertise, Duo began to learn how to use these magical abilities in the hope to defend himself.

The Collective would not be dissuaded; they pursued the small group across the globe, unaware of dissent forming in their own ranks. One of the seated members had ambitions of his own, ambitions that included taking over The Collective itself for his own and to do so needed the powers of death at his command.

After one engagement, Duo found himself separated from the others only to find himself in the hospitality of Death's Hand, a cult of death worshipers who were the descendants of those who had sworn to serve the Death Mage countless years ago. Among these members was Une, the director of the Preventers who had been a former enemy of Duo's but was now his ally.

His time with Death's Hand was short spent—the rogue Collective member baited a trap with Solo and the other pilots, forcing Duo to agree to give up his freedom in order to save them. Duo's friends, though, would not tolerate this and tracked them down to a medieval fortress and launching an attack that demolished the stronghold.

Defeating the seated Collective agent and regaining his freedom, Duo came to the decision that he could no longer remain with his friends for so long as he did, they would always be in danger. With Solo refusing to be left behind and tagging along, Duo made good his escape into the unknown, always moving from place to place, eluding both friend and enemy while learning more and more how to use his powers.

It has been two years since then and the tale of two streetrats continues…

"The First Seat is growing impatient."

An anxious silence kept the small group of Collective officials quiet; anxious because it was a well-known fact that the First Seat had more patience than a saint and silent because none dared say anything that might attract too much attention to any of their persons.

The Second Seat, the de facto leader whenever the First Seat was not in attendance, eyed every one of the seated members, demanding that someone speak up. When nothing was forthcoming, the Second Seat didn't even let out a sigh in exasperation. Instead, he leaned forward in his seat and made his presence more oppressive by increasing the intensity of his magical aura. "Does anyone care to explain why the situation has gotten to this point?"

Again, none dared to answer the superior. Among those that saw it fit to remain silent and wait this out was the new Tenth Seat Jason Ciliars, also known to others as Windweaver. He was the youngest man in this dark chamber, an accomplishment that he himself was proud of.

Though, right now, it was an accomplishment that didn't bode well for him. The Second Seat's displeasure would only be a preview of what was to come should their master deign to show his.

"You know, I cannot believe that some of the magical world's most powerful magic users can't answer a simple question," the Second Seat stated, speaking as if this was a normal conversation. "How hard is it to capture one young man? It's something that normal, powerless humans can do with ease. How is it that none of you here can't accomplish what is done everyday?"

"Don't you think you are being a bit too hard on us?" the new Ninth Seat, Damasio as Jason knew him, asked. "With every day, the power of the Death Mage grows. He becomes harder to constrain. Normal binding spells are starting to lose their effectiveness since his death powers erode them. Finding him is another challenge by itself. Need I remind you that the boy was a Gundam pilot? And let's not forget about that shadow manipulator that sticks to his side like a loyal guard dog. He too has been growing in power."

"And this is to excuse your pitiful performances how?" the Second Seat asked dryly. "If any of you would bother to get personally involved in the Death Mage's capture, then this meeting would not be happening."

"It's not that simple anymore," Damasio argued. "Just five months ago, the Death Mage battled the former Eighth Seat in a one-on-one fight and defeated him. He is starting to become more of a match—"

"The Eighth Seat had let his own powers wane and deteriorate," the Second Seat interrupted. "His pride and arrogance were his own downfall; he learned nothing from the Phantom's mistakes."

"Wasn't it our current Tenth Seat who was originally assigned to capture him?" the current Fourth Seat asked. Jason did not like how the mindreader was directing his gaze at him. "The Death Mage had yet to realize his powers at that time. It was most opportune then to capture him and yet Windweaver's men failed that."

Bringing up old news?

"I see no reason why not to mention it Windweaver," the Fourth Seat remarked, intrusively reading his thoughts again.

"Mentalion, you have little to show for your efforts," the Second Seat came to Jason's unexpected rescue. "Care to explain how your students not only failed but were decimated?"

The Fourth Seat, Mentalion, said nothing and glowered instead.

"The First Seat has told me that should this stalemate continue longer, he will have to get personally involved," the Second Seat intoned. "The only reason he hasn't so far is that he has been attending to important matters that cannot otherwise be delayed. You all know the penalty that comes with Master Drako's intervention, correct?"

A shudder ran through them all.

"No more excuses. No more second chances," the Second Seat declared. "Enough time has been wasted. You know your primary duty. Locate and acquire the Death Mage by any means necessary. Kill anyone you have to, I do not care if it is the Vice Foreign Minister herself. Threaten, blackmail, abduct, just get your hands on the Death Mage at whatever cost.

"Your lives are included in that. Everyone from our new Seventh Seat and down to the new Fifteenth Seat, I want all of you to devote your resources to this assignment. Drop everything you are working on and that includes rivalries."

"Just a question, Second Seat, why aren't you doing what you are ordering the rest of us to do?" Damasio asked.

"Ninth Seat, there are still some matters that cannot be ignored despite their tedium," the Second Seat answered. "Despite that, only a minimum of us are needed to oversee them, leaving the rest of you with nothing else of importance to do. The time for playing around is over. Keep that in mind Damasio, the rest of you included. It is our time, no one else's. The opportunity to seize it is now. If we miss it, who knows how long we have to wait for it to come again."

The Second Seat paused as a presence made itself know though none of those assembled could actually see it. There was no need to be able to see it; they all knew who it was. The First Seat was checking in on them, observing them as if through a microscope. It was not a pleasant feeling but they also knew it was deliberate.

It was a simple reminder that there was one above them all, one who was more than willing to begin administering discipline should it be called for.

As quickly as it had frozen them, the presence was gone though not in thought.

"I doubt I have to say anything after that," the Second Seat finally spoke up after a moment that seemed to last an eternity. "Time is running out, not for The Collective, but for us. Let's not warrant our master's ire and obtain a success this time, hmm?"

Yes, success, that often-elusive concept. Jason would be seeking it out just like the others. This time, he would take the Second Seat's threatening advice and take part in this task personally.

He would not be humiliated again

There was a difference between incompetence and ineptitude.

Zechs Merquise, also known to most as Agent Wind, was having a difficult time figuring which was which. It was well known amongst the Preventers just how bad the Japanese branch of the organization was. It was the butt of countless jokes, talked about the water cooler as agents, whether they be field or desk, would always give thanks for its existence.

Look on the bright side; at least we're not as bad as Japan!

It was the last in everything. The last in good recruits, the last in successful operations, the last in bureaucratic efficiency, just basically it was the last in every category that could be conceived of.

Une was tired of it, sick of it as well. Thus she had managed to somehow pull some strings and bring Zechs all the way back from Mars of all places to come in and clean the place up. It wasn't that Zechs didn't want to leave Mars but…why? Why was it him who was supposed to clean up the mess of men whom he had never met and whose buffoonery was legend? Was this some sort of payback on Une's part for something he did in the past?

Apparently, Une trusted him to do a good job but still, he was going to need a miracle! Several! He may have been one of the best Mobile Suit pilots around, a decorated officer who had once been praised and adored for his abilities, his talent, and his sense of honor, and a man of integrity who knew when to spare the rod and spoil the child…but that didn't mean he was cut out for this!

Budgets, staff meetings that he was in charge of, reports after reports, and let's not forget periodic chastising of various agents who quite frankly should have been kicked out a long time ago.

At the very least, he looked forward to the upcoming, and unannounced, physicals that he was planning on using to serve as a basis for kicking some of these agents out. Preventers regulations stated that every agent, no matter what their position or duties were had to maintain a certain level of fitness and physical health. Only in this branch had he ever seen an obese agent.

He could not wait to show the results to Une and get her authorization for a…clearance. If he had to build this division up from the ground up, that was what he was going to do. The public depended on the competence of the Preventers to maintain the fragile peace that so many had died for, that he himself had fought for, and he would be damned if a small group of individuals compromised it!

You could tell he was frustrated, couldn't you? Yes, it was obvious, even to himself but he had been involved in this little project for almost a month. A month too long if you asked him. If he had to hear one more time that Yatsumoto had messed up the ammunitions shed again or that Hideki was illegally parked out front, he was going to do more than pull his hair out.

He was ready to put a new definition to the term going postal, whatever that phrase meant. Heard it some time ago but never got around to finding out what exactly it was. He had heard somewhere about it having something to do with the postal service and angry staff…

Maybe he needed some fresh air, hmm? Maybe he just needed to clear his head; he had been in this one office since he arrived and that was…this morning. And it was close to three in the afternoon. Had he had lunch in that amount of time? He wasn't sure… Was all the stress he was experiencing suppressing his appetite? If Noin were here, he was sure she would give him an earful.

Maybe he shouldn't just get out of the office for a bit; he should grab a snack, preferably in a place that wasn't in the cafeteria.

With a plan in mind, Zechs wasn't one to procrastinate. He carried it out immediately, informing one of the desk clerks that he was going out and that he expected the building to still be in one piece when he returned.

He'd tackle the issue of there being no more toilet paper later.

It was sunny out, the first thing he noticed as he exited the front entrance. With a cool breeze hitting him in the face, Zechs had the sensation of feeling free. It was a shame that this feeling wouldn't last long but he knew that he could only take what he could get and so had to make the best of it. A walk around the block ought to further clear his head.

Soon that block turned into two blocks, and those two turned into four, and the next thing Zechs knew he was further along than he had planned. It wasn't really something that was eating at him; it just meant it would take him longer to get back to base and he was in no hurry getting back. Well, since he had come this far, perhaps there was an eatery or a small restaurant, preferably not fast food, that he could stop at.

There were only so much poorly made hamburgers a man could take before he lost his mind along with any taste buds he may have left. However, he didn't want to get anything that would spoil dinner later on but with the way he was skipping meals already, that was most likely a moot point. Still, he didn't think getting a full-course sushi meal would be any better.

He paused in thought though he continued to walk so as not to obstruct the path of the other pedestrians using the sidewalk. Up ahead, he could have sworn…no, he was probably imagining it. It's just that…he could have sworn he had seen a braid up ahead.

At least, he presumed it to be a braid as he only saw the general shape of it. Color or anything else identifying about it was not available to him right—there it was again! Whipping and weaving through the Japanese urbanites like some kind of snake.

Why was it that seeing a braid was so important, you might be asking yourself? Well, to Zechs, there was only one person he knew of who had a braid of that particular length and even then he had only seen this person up close for a total of a minute. He had never been properly introduced but he had heard the stories.

Last he heard, wasn't Duo Maxwell supposed to be on some long-term undercover assignment? He wasn't stating, just repeating what he had heard. From what he knew of this individual, lengthy undercover work was not his forte. What was Une up to?

Also, was there some part of that assignment that required Duo Maxwell to be in Kyoto? He had not been informed of this; not that he was expecting to be informed of every single undercover op. It's just he assumed that Une would have told him about any that would be occurring in this region so while he wouldn't know specifics, he would be on the lookout so that he wouldn't unintentionally interfere.

Maybe, just maybe, he should check this out, just in case. He wouldn't make contact; he would just scope it out and whatever information he picked up he could use as leverage to get Une to tell him the truth and not lead him around.

But first he needed to confirm that this was indeed Duo Maxwell and not just some random person who just so happened to have a long braid, as unlikely as that sounded.

For a brief moment, he recalled that he was supposed to be working on shaping up the Preventers division that was stationed here. Well, it has been dysfunctional for this long. It would remain standing if he were to stay out longer than intended. Besides, if it did collapse in his absence, at least it would save him the trouble of renovating; he could go straight to rebuilding from the foundation instead.

When he had first come to Earth, he had never had much of a chance to really take in the sights. Of course, there were those lulls in all the action but usually he was in the middle of laying low and that took a lot more effort than you would think.

And when you think about it, he was doing the same thing in a way. Lying low, that is.

Unlike years ago when you knew who was chasing after you and those individuals happened to wear mandated uniforms, it was easy to dodge them. Now, though, there was no clue as to who could be a friend, who could be an ally, and more importantly who was an enemy.

It would be dangerous to just walk around in broad daylight, gazing up at everything with childlike wonder and amazed at some of the most mundane things you can come up with.

Duo Maxwell was a guy who liked to live dangerously. Whether it was piloting an awesome weapon of mass destruction or commenting loudly on just how tasty some ramen noodles from a vendor's stand were, he liked to live on the edge. So here's him flipping the bird to all types of rationality; he was not going to hide himself in a hole and huddle up into a ball while some ancient group of secretive magic-users sought to hunt him down like an animal and make him their slave.

That just wasn't living, man. It just wasn't!

Besides, it wasn't as if he was alone or anything. He had himself a partner of sorts. Dependable in a fight whether it was against megalomaniac Collective seats or the common case of boredom, Solo was the guy you could count on to watch your back.

In more ways than one, of course, but now wasn't the time for that kind of stuff. Later, when it was dark and nobody could hear—

"Thinkin' 'bout tonight, eh?" Solo's voice interrupted his train of thought. The taller blond who kept his hair in a ponytail winked at him saucily. "Got a lot of new material we can try out so it's not vanilla."

"And when did you find the time to get new material?" Duo asked.

"Here and there and maybe from some comic book porn," Solo answered without hesitation, his green eyes glimmering with fond memories. "I swear, this place is like the repressed sexual pervents capital of the world!"

"And that's Japan for ya," Duo nodded sagely as he returned to slurping up some noodles.

"So what d'ya wanna do after this?" Solo asked, looking around as he checked out their surroundings with a two-fold purpose. The first for any potential enemy movement and the second just to take in the place. It was amazing sometimes how Solo could appear almost childlike.

"I figure we walk around 'til we can't walk anymore, sit our asses down somewhere, and find someplace to stay the night. The usual routine," Duo said, letting out a small belch as soon as he finished speaking.

"Big boy," Solo teased him, referring to the burp. "Well, if that's how ya wanna do things, I ain't got a problem."

"For some reason…I have an urge to want to correct your grammar," Duo said, eyes gazing off distantly. Blinking and shaking his head as if to take it out of the metaphorical clouds, he straightened his shoulders as he finished lunch and threw his trash away, Solo copying him.

"Good luck with that. Adrian couldn't fix my speech an' I was stuck with him for what, ten years? Kinda blurs together sometimes," Solo remarked.

"That's just 'cause you're stubborn," Duo retorted as he took the lead, the taller blond following after him.

"Ain't that the pot callin' the kettle black," Solo teased in return.

"And just who are you calling stubborn, hmm?" Duo mock-glared back at the blond.

"Oh, I dun know, somebody who's short and has a braid that's longer than he is tall," Solo drawled out.

"Well at least I don't act like how my hair dictates," Duo countered.

Solo frowned at that. "…act like how my hair…? What does that even… Is that a fucking blonde joke ya midget?"

"I can hear the wind tunnel," Duo taunted as he put an extra foot between the two of them.

"Ya just don't know when ta quit, do ya?" Solo accused, narrowing his eyes. Without warning, Solo lunged at the braided one but Duo, having already foreseen this, was already skipping ahead, his braid trailing after him tauntingly. "Get yer scrawny ass back here ya brat!" Solo roared after him, causing quite a few people to look at him in alarm as well as putting some space between them and him.

Naturally, Duo wasn't going to heed that. He wasn't that obedient or stupid. He knew he was risking an almost certain noogie but riling his old childhood friend turned something more but it was just too much fun pressing his buttons! It was like the old days except instead of being the much weaker Kid who Solo would without fail get in a headlock within the first few seconds of irritation, he now had years of experience as a Gundam pilot and the physical strength and mental edge that came with it.

Despite Solo being taller and more muscular, Duo had more than one time pinned the other down, a very nice reversal if he didn't say so himself.

Feeling more than seeing the first signs of magic use, Duo paused and scanned around for where the source was only to spot the shadows on the sidewalk moving in an unnatural way. Oh, so Solo thought he could grab him this way?

With subtle movements of his fingers that no one around him saw, he cast a shield around him that had some death magic imbued within it. The shadows wouldn't dare try to touch him that way. Heh, ya gotta do better than that Solo!

He looked over his shoulder with a smirk, a smirk that promptly dropped off his face as he saw that Solo was not quite as far away as he thought he was. In fact, he was just a couple yards off…

Time to follow the first part of his motto.

He weaved through the increasingly crowding sidewalk using all the grace he had in his body. For someone like him who could be the loudest person in the room at times, he had lot of that stuff, grace that is. A lot of people were surprised by that fact to be honest. All that meant was that he was casting his non-magical illusion properly; you'd be surprised how a few choice words and a certain behavior could accomplish what it would take a shit load of magic to do.

Solo, though, was really out of practice. Duo could remember a time when the blond could whisper through a crowd like a freaking ghost and come out with the pockets of his tattered pants full of wallets. Ten years, give or take some time because Solo couldn't say accurately how long he trained under Adrian, without needing to do that really made you rusty. Sure he could see Solo at times move around someone with all the ease of an L2 street urchin but more often than not he was jostling folks.

In a place like Japan where physical contact was typically restricted, this was not really being taken well. At the same time, in a place like Japan, people can tolerate a lot of stuff all the while planning your gruesome demise under a polite façade.

Let's just see how long Solo's luck would hold out until he got stopped.

A benefit of the death magic-laced shield he had up, people were unconsciously moving away from him. Their innate instincts were having them move away from the cold source of lethality and because this was all unconscious, no one was begrudging him. Couldn't say the same about the metaphorical bull in the china shop following behind him.

After playing this little game of chase for a while, Duo's heart pounding each time he saw just how far behind him Solo was, the braided one found himself suddenly out of the busy sections of the city. Heck, he kinda forgot when he left the crowds in the first place. Solo wasn't behind him anymore but that didn't mean squat.

Thanks to his manipulation powers over shadows, the blond could be hiding right next to him and Duo wouldn't know it until it was too late. Searching around with his eyes and trying to sense if there was anything magical humming nearby, Duo found out that yes, he was alone. He had lost Solo.

…what to do now.

Solo would find him again; he always did. But in the meantime, Duo would walk around a bit. There was still a bit of energy inside of him and he figured it would be best to work it all out now instead of having it pent up inside of him.

Now where was he? He couldn't have gotten lost so quickly, could he? Well, this wouldn't be the first time he got lost thanks to fleeing from Solo's wrath. Maybe he ought to stop invoking the blond's ire?

Nah. Like he was ever going to do that!

Yet he couldn't get that nagging feeling that demanded to know where he was. Who knows? He might need to head this way and it would be best to know how he did get there in the first place. Now let's see…what could he use as some kind of geographical marker?

Something caught his eye and he had to do a double take. Just across the street, he saw what looked like a traditional Japanese gate. He could see a set of stairs and green foliage blocking out what was beyond it and that had his curiosity rearing out.

Before he could stomp it out, the thought that perhaps this place held some kind of historic value occurred to him. If it had historic value, it would be something that would show up on, let's say, a map of some sort. A brochure map even.

A lazy smile formed on his lips; and some people thought he had trouble problem solving! He was much smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for.

It did occur to him that the place could be a front for something, anything, but he highly doubted it. Even with the remoteness to it, he couldn't feel any magical presence coming from it and after you've dealt with The Collective enough times, you knew that wherever they were there would be a huge magical concentration.

Now, this did not mean something of Preventers' interest wasn't hiding out in there but that kind of stuff wouldn't be out in plain sight. Plus paranoia in everybody there would be a giveaway that something was being hidden there.

Well, there was nothing for it. Might as well head on it and check the place out. Who knows, he might find something interesting there.