Chapter Text
Vanya : "gift of God" - male name (russian).
Viktor : "victorious" - male name (russian).
Number 7. It always has been his name. An undying and constant reminder of what kind of specimen he seemed to be in his father's eyes. It was more a rank than an actual name. Seven. His real identity.
Oh ! How he hated this number.
The last place was his malediction ; invisibility was his fate. He couldn't be himself. He couldn't be special. A nuisance he was, so small next to them. In comparison to the rest of the Umbrella, Seven was nothing more than a pain in the neck.
Aside from Four, Five and Six, the seventh child was, for the most part, ignored by all. Cloistered inside a very tiny, unremarkable, characterless bedroom.
⁂
Four was a funny guy : the type of person who would never get bored of borrowing Three's skirts and dresses. The third child often threatened to use her rumors on him. Never scared him. Until one specific day : a somber time called the "cuckoo day".
Seven allowed Four to steal some of his own skirts on one condition. Just one. An exchange : one gets skirts, the other gets pants. Easy deal, easy deal ! Thus it had led to a convenient trade.
The seventh child would never forget how comfortable he had felt. Never.
It was a tangible sense of freedom. It felt... right. However, despite this happiness, he couldn't tell anyone. He could never talk about how much better it made him feel. Because he was ordinary. A miserable failure with no chance of being something else. A mediocre, plain, hollow puppet which had lost its strings. Strings his violin had worn.
⁂
The fateful chapter of the Hargreeves siblings had finally occurred. The robot caregiver, Grace, had suggested the idea of choosing real names. The six other numbers did not have an ounce of hesitation. Seven, on the other hand... He had heard a lot of stories from his birthplace. What would happen if he— he had to try.
«Mom, the little form reached the pink polka skirt of the female android. His little hand tightened around the sides of it, Mom !
–Hm ? Yes ? What is it, sweetheart ?
–Can I... Can I have a name both girly and boyish ? he asked quietly.
–Oh ! Of course you can, sweetheart ! What about Vanya ?
–Vanya ?
–Yes. It means "gift of God". Where you were born, it's a boy name !» she replied with a lovely smile. She knelt down, her robotic hands wrapped around Seven's little paws.
"Gift of God" ? It sounded... so extraordinary. The seventh child adored the vibrant force behind this name ; therefore he would become Vanya with a big burst of pride. Of course, it was a secret between Grace and Sev— Vanya.
Maybe Four and Six knew.
I mean ! Klaus and Ben had been quickly informed.
It pains me to say, but regardless of how au fait these two were, Sir Reginald Hargreeves had made sure that Vanya would never be able to establish solid, close relationships with any of the other siblings. He had partly failed, of course.
Five was there. So did Klaus and Ben.
Until the two incidents.
⁂
The child had grown up, yet his soul remained empty. Lost in the infinity of a never-ending masquerade, a labyrinth of lies and secrets. Vanya was a shadow, drowned in the heap of silhouettes. His siblings' bright light covered him behind a dough of darkness. Not the kind of pastry one would like.
He had made a decision : write a book. No more façade, no more fake smile. "Extra-Ordinary : My Life as Number Seven"... that was the title.
What a terrible idea, it seems. All it did was to make the rift between the author of the book and his siblings worse. What was wrong with his thought process ? Hidden behind the prestigious walls of the Academy, the dark secrets had escaped.
No. The problem was Luther, Diego and Allison.
Five was missing,
Ben was dead,
Klaus was— well, Klaus.