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He’s expecting to go at this uninterrupted for the next hour or so at least, without any windows overlooking the backyard from either the nursery or the bedrooms shared by the older kids, but he hears boots treading on sand from behind him before even half an hour has passed. The shifting of the grains is so quiet it’s near imperceptible, but there’s no tricking Livio’s ear. His vision swims a moment as Razlo is alerted, but Razlo quickly returns to what he’d been doing before (fussing over the weeds) as they both reason out who exactly is moving behind him.
Though Razlo has never liked Vash, he doesn’t see him as a threat, either. It’s the opposite if anything; Vash staunchly refuses to fight no matter how often Razlo begs him for a duel. It’s probably… fair, actually, even if Livio himself is a little bit bummed about it. Vash doesn’t have a whole lot of “fighting” left in him, if Livio understands correctly… and also, Razlo’s idea of a friendly spar is a little bloodier than most people’s, Livio has learned.
“Mornin’,” Livio calls, because Vash hasn’t spoken yet.
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The morning after Christmas, Vash catches Livio on his way back out of December.
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