Chapter Text
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Yor peacefully hummed to herself, rubbing clean the kitchen counter while Anya readied herself for school. She was fortunate to receive a day off from not only City Hall, but Garden. Once upon a time she’d have no clue what to do on such a day—City hall provided her a serviceable distraction from her real job, and Garden truly filled her with purpose, despite the messy nature of the job.
Everything’s so different now/ I never pictured myself as a mother. Even though I know I’m not the best at it, I’ve never been happier than as a Forger. I’m so lucky to have met Loid.
From the corner of her eye, Yor spotted Anya with a devilish smile. “Mama, you’re thinking about kissing Papa, aren’t you?”
“E-E-Excuse me?!” the assassin cried, tightly clutching the rag she had been using to clean against her chest. “W-Where did you get an idea like that?!”
Anya responded in nothing more than a scheming laugh, her smile only fading to look at their front door with a surprised expression.
“Anya?” Yor tilted her head. “Is something—”
Three knocks came from the door, startling Yor. “Goodness. Who could that be so early in the morning?” She set down her cloth and moved to the door, opening it to reveal an almost reluctant looking Franky Franklin.
“Franky? What are you doing here?!”
“Oh!” he jumped. “Sorry, Yor. I was expecting Loid to answer the door. Can I come in?”
“Of course,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “He hasn’t come out of his room yet. I think he might be sick. If you need to tell him something, I could tell him later if you’d like.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” he dismissed. “The old bastard ain’t sick. Just sulking. I just need to give him this.” In Franky’s hand was a small envelope, several large circular indentations pressing against the paper. “Afterwards, I’ll get out of your hair. Promise.”
Both Yor and Anya stayed at the end of the hall, watching as Franky knocked on Loid’s door.
Loid, so often composed and well kempt, answered the door with his hair a mess and his shirt crinkled. Dark circles surrounded his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in weeks and the glare he fed to Franky was nothing less than contemptible.
He swallowed hard before asking, “What do you want, Franklin?”
Franky pushed the envelope into Loid’s hands. “Got a present for you, Jackass. Figured you could use the pick-me-up.”
Loid eyed his friend and the envelope suspiciously before opening the package. Though she was at the end of the hall and part of her view blocked by Franky’s afro, Yor could still make out a look of absolute shock on Loid’s face. If she hadn’t known better, she’d say his eyes had begun to water.
Loid cleared his throat and curtly thanked the man before shutting the door, not bothering to wait for a response.
Franky turned around and made his way to the door, but was halted by Anya. “Scruffy Head!” she cried. “What present did you give Papa? And why’d he get all sad n stuff?”
Franky rubbed the girl's head and smiled as brightly as his usual self. “Don’t worry about any of that, squirt. Sometimes, grown-ups are just weird like that. See ya!”
Without another word, he left the apartment. Yor couldn’t help but share Anya’s curiosity, but she respected Loid’s privacy too much to pry. She was more of a guest within the household, after all. It wouldn’t do for her to snoop in on any sensitive matters, especially not between Loid and his friends.
While caught up in her thoughts, Anya pulled on Yor’s hand. “Hey Mama, you should go talk to Papa! Becky says that it's a wife’s job to comfort her husband when he’s sad. Or pent up. Whatever that means.”
Aside from a light red dust across her cheeks, Yor managed to stay collected over Anya’s comment. “T-That’s not necessary, Anya. Your father doesn’t need me to be butting into his business. Besides, it’s about time for you to head to school, isn’t it?”
Anya’s eyes widened to dinner plates. “Noooooo! I’m gonna miss the bus and get a Tonitrus Bolt!” The little girl bolted for the door, grabbing her backpack just as she left the apartment.
“Don’t run, Anya! You’ll fall and hurt yourself!” Yor yelled after her.
The door shut behind Anya and Yor couldn’t help but smile. I wonder if I’d feel any different about all this if I really was a mother… She languidly shook her head. No. I don’t see how I could possibly be happier than I am now.
From the end of the hallway, Loid’s door clicked open.
Yor looked to see half his face poking out from the door, his expression no less tired than when he opened the door for Franky.
“Is she gone,” he asked.
Yor nodded. “Yes. Sorry, I should have had her say goodbye to you before leaving.”
“No…” he said. “She shouldn’t see me like this.”
He fully exited the room, heading for the bathroom. Yor quickly moved to stop him. “Hold on, Loid!
When his gaze turned to her, Yor could hardly feel it. When they had first met, she had felt the intensity of his watch so potently—but now it felt as if she were being looked at by a blind man.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice even more dead than his eyes.
“I…” She shook her head and moved out of his way. “No, nothing. Nevermind…”
Without so much as a second glance, Loid moved into the bathroom, the shower starting up a moment later.
Yor would have been lying if she said that Anya’s suggestion of speaking with Loid wasn’t a tempting one. She had never seen him speak to Franky with such disrespect before, but Franky himself didn’t seem to care one bit after the actual interaction. She wanted to be someone that he could depend on—a wife that he could depend on.
I feel so useless if something doesn’t have to do with killing. I want to do more than just help out with shopping and cleaning… But I can’t just invade his personal life. I should just leave well enough alone for now.
Yor returned to cleaning the kitchen, finishing up just as Loid stepped out of the shower, his clothes a bit damp from the steam, and his hair noticeably better groomed than when he had first exited his room.
Without a word, he reentered his room, coming back out hardly a moment later with a large, tan trench coat, a matching fedora, and bright red scarf wrapped around his neck. He neared the door, his stare still notably numb. He unfolded his collar, allowing it to cover more of his face.
He turned to her, coldly stating, “I’ll be back later.”
“Are you going to work then?”
He was silent for a moment, finally answering, “No.”
“O-Okay! Well, be safe.”
His stare lingered at her response, nearly cutting through her before he exited the apartment, leaving Yor alone in the apartment.
She continued on cleaning until all rooms but Loid’s were spotless. Afterwhich, she went out shopping for anything they were low on, and upon returning home sharpened her thorns to the point that a sideways glance at them would cut deep enough to kill. It wasn’t long after that that it seemed like there was nothing to do.
She sat idly on the couch, her hands pantomiming a typing motion in her lap as she gazed up at the ceiling as if it would provide her an answer on what she could do.
She glanced at the clock and noticed it had been several hours since Loid left, and yet there was no sign of his return.
She lifted herself from the couch, mindlessly wandering the apartment, inwardly pursing her lips as her unhurried movements guided her around the kitchen, the bathroom, and her and Anya’s bedrooms before she found herself stopped in front of Loid’s room.
A glance down the hall, listening for an opening door was her only response to the thought that perverted her mind.
“Loid’s usually so tidy. I doubt he’s left even a hair out of place. If it’s clean then I won’t do anything, but if it’s messy… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me trying to make myself useful… Right?”
Yor rested her hand on the knob, her heart pounding furiously against her chest as if she had broken a major taboo. She gripped the knob, slowly turning until—click—the door opened.
She pushed the door open, the hinges squeaking as she was granted a greater view to Loid’s rather orderly room.
“Oh…” she pouted, her thumping heart rapidly calming. “I guess there’s nothing for me to do in here, after—hm?”
Scattered across Loid’s bed was the envelope Franky had given Loid, the paper crumpled and uncrumpled with noticeably large smooth points in the paper. “Whatever was in this envelope must have been sturdy if it prevented the paper from being damaged here. I wonder what Franky gave Loid that was so important…”
Though she was about to exit the room forbidden to her, another piece of paper caught her attention, this time resting in the seat of Loid’s chair, folded tenderly and carefully.
Yor turned on the light above the chair and picked up the paper, unfolding it as she sat down in Loid’s chair.
“It’s… a drawing?”
In her hands was a hyper-realistic penciling of what looked to be a young smiling Loid with his arms wrapped around three other young men. The drawing stopped just under the men’s chests, and beneath each of them was a name.
The stocky young man with a rather large and rounded nose standing to Loid’s right was named as General Gavin Gray. Next to him was a scrawnier bespectacled man listed as Corporal Connor Clarke. On Loid’s left was handsome, freckled boy with the name Major Michael McNiece
“I never knew Loid was in the army… No wonder he takes his job so seriously—he must be trying to help people like his… friends?”
Yor’s musings were interrupted when she noticed something absolutely puzzling about the drawing—the name under Loid’s portrait wasn’t his.
