Chapter Text
Memories are funny things.
Vantacrow carries them like scars.
He is ten.
He sits on the bench outside the principal’s office. He sniffs and pulls bloodied tissues from his nose. His nosebleed finally stopped. Bored, he starts shredding the tissues into strips of white with blotchy red.
The door opens, and his parents walk out of the room, expressions serious and cold. Dad sees him first. He rushes over and crouches down, cradling his son’s face, tilting it left and right, looking for injuries. His hands are warm and rough like sandpaper.
“Does it hurt?” He asks, brushing away a smear of blood on Vanta’s nose.
“No.” Vanta lies. It does, a little, but he’s tough.
“Did you start the fight?” Mom asks.
“No.” He speaks truthfully. “He wanted to take my lunch money. I said no. He pushed me into the benches, that’s how I hurt my nose.” He sniffs.
Mom nods. “How’s the other guy?”
Vanta sits up proudly. “Worse, way worse. I made him promise that he’ll never try to take my lunch money ever again.”
A wonderful smile cracks across Mom’s face. “That’s my boy!” She ruffles his hair and then kisses his face. She smells like oranges and silver.
“Raven, not so loud. The teachers are still there.” Dad scolds, though he’s smiling. There is pride and fondness in his eyes, a fondness Vanta recognises is reserved only for him. He rescues Vanta from his mother’s smothering kisses, swinging him up so his son rests on his shoulders.
“Why shouldn’t I be proud of my son?” Mom says hotly as they start walking out of the school.
“Dad, dad! I used that inside-outside-kick you taught me last week!”
“Reverse roundhouse kick.” Dad always corrects him, even though Vanta promptly ignores it and gives the taekwondo techniques names of his own. “Did you aim for the ribs this time?”
“Yes! He went like “Ommf” and tried to hit me back. But he missed. Mom, I also hit him with that jab. You should have seen his face! He looked so stupid.”
“Brilliant bird,” Mom says, her eyes filled with fondness.
“Really, Mom?”
“Yes.”
“The teacher doesn’t think so. She said that I should have told the teachers. She said I shouldn’t have hit back.”
“She’s wrong.” She says it fiercely, it’s almost a growl. “It’s not the first time this has happened. She failed you, you hear me, Vanta? She, all the adults should have prevented this from happening. You aren’t wrong in fighting back to protect yourself when they failed to.”
Dad nods and lifts him off his shoulders. He brings him to his chest so they can meet eye to eye. They are violet, just like him.
“The world will try to take things from you, Vanta. For example, today, it tried to take your lunch. The world will tell you to lie down and take it. But don’t let them get away with it, alright? What does mom always say?”
“Tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye.” Vanta recites with every bit of his being. He would burn those words into his tongue if he could.
Mom’s eyes are sparkling. “That’s right, son. Fight back. Bite at it and don’t let go until it rips off.”
Vanta nods solemnly. “Like this?” He snaps his jaws, his teeth clink sharply.
Mom and Dad are laughing and saying, "Yes, son, yes." They promise him fried chicken for dinner, his favourite. The afternoon sun is warm on his dry, bloodied nose. Happiness bursts from Vanta’s chest; he’s laughing and laughing, he laughs too loudly, he feels he can never stop.
Right. That was the night the stranger came.
-
He’s tucked into bed, slowly nodding off with a belly full of fried chicken. He’s squeezed between his parents on the bed. Mom reads a story to his left, Dad is petting his head at a comforting rhythm.
There is a knock at the door.
Dad is on his feet before Vanta registers the loss of warmth at his side. He leaves the room, closing the door behind him silently, but leaves a sliver of a gap. Mom is very still, she stares at the door as if she can look through the wood.
He hears Dad speak in a low voice. A stranger’s voice, though extremely muffled, answers him. Dad makes a surprised sound. A resounding click tells Vanta that Dad opened the door for them
The stranger’s voice is less muffled now. Vanta can make out a man’s voice. “Sorry for…intrusion, Jet. I know…late.”
“…okay…come in. Wait for me…” The door closes. Dad’s voice rings louder when he speaks again, “Raven, it’s okay. It’s Krystallo.”
Mom stops tensing at once. She breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at Vanta. “It’s okay, Vanta. He’s a friend. Can you let go of me for a bit? I need to greet our guest.” She touches his hand, which clung to her arm. Vanta didn’t even realise he was gripping it. Reluctantly, Vanta lets go.
“Stay in bed, okay?” She kisses him on the cheek. “We’ll finish the story tomorrow. Goodnight.”
The moment she closes the door, Vanta slides off the bed. He presses his ear to the cold wooden door. There’s something in his chest that’s telling him he doesn’t like this stranger, even though he’s not sure why.
The stranger’s voice speaks again. “Raven, it’s good to see you. I’m sorry for barging in so late.”
“It’s good to see you, Boss. Let me get you something to drink.”
“No need no need. How are you doing? From the looks of it motherhood hasn’t taken anything from you.”
“Flirting with my wife, Boss?”
“Oh, Jet, I wouldn’t dare! Not until I can beat you in a fist fight.” The stranger laughs. It’s a loud and deep sound. Mom and Dad laugh with him.
“I’m glad to see you two doing well. Oh, that reminds me, where’s the little ankle biter?”
“I just put him to bed.”
“I see. How is he doing? Still getting into fights?”
“Yes. Just today we had to pick him up from the principal’s office.”
The stranger laughs again. “Fiesty child. Just like his parents. It’s good to see you two doing well.”
Dad speaks this time. “Thank you, Boss. What about your son? Is his asthma getting better?”
“About that…he’s actually the reason why I’m here.” The stranger sighs. “There was an assassination attempt last month.”
Someone takes in a sharp breath. It’s probably Mom. “Is he…”
“He’s alive. He’s okay. Not a scratch. He doesn’t even know it happened because he was sleeping, thank god. Ah, that child, he could sleep through a bomb. Haha…” The stranger chuckles, but this time the sound sounds pained for some reason. It reminds Vanta of the time he choked on a bone.
“But they almost had him, that bastard. That bastard was crouching over his bed with a gun to his head. If I didn’t have my gun on me. If Kuro didn’t hear him upstairs. I—I…”
“Boss, let’s sit down. You’re shaking.” Mom says.
The chairs groan. There is a pause, then the stranger heaves a deep sigh. “Raven, Jet, I’m here to ask something selfish. I need you to protect my son. I’m sorry, I know I agreed that the two of you could extend your coaching contract for four more years. But you’re the best I know. The newer ones are enough for me, but not for him. I trust you two with my life, and his. I can’t leave and do what I need to do if I can’t be sure he’ll be safe.”
His parents stay quiet for a long time, until Dad finally speaks.
“Where would we be stationed?”
“Outside the Nijisanji Districts. The furthest would be the Summer Mansion.”
“That’s far.”
“I know. I know.”
“For how long?”
“Depends on how long my trips would be. Days? Maybe…maybe weeks.”
Mom and Dad say nothing.
“I know it’s long, it’s far. Of course, I’ll bump up your pay. We could arrange for your son to join us on these trips, or have him live at the Kaneshiro Mansion. I would be happy to house him, but I’m sure you know that is not the safest option. I’m sorry, I’ll have to take you away from him.”
“No!” Vanta bursts out of the room.
The stranger’s eyes widen in surprise as Vanta skids to a stop in front of him, his small arms open to shield his parents. He’s bigger than Vanta imagines. When he looks up at him, he fills Vanta’s world. His hair is blonde. His white fur coat drapes loosely over his shoulders, which makes him look even larger. Vanta wonders if that fur came from a polar bear; if so, it’s pretty cool. He wants to touch it.
“You don’t get to take Mom and Dad from me. Go away.” Vanta yells. People always tell him he’s too loud, but his voice feels quiet and weak in front of the man. He’s not a scrawny or small kid by any means, but he’s suddenly aware of how much he still needs to grow.
“Vanta!” Mom yells, she stands up so quickly her chair clatters to the ground.
“Vanta, apologise to Krystallo right now!” Dad says sternly.
“But I didn’t do anything wrong. He said that he’ll take you away from me.”
“He’s right.” The stranger says. Vanta is surprised, adults usually don’t agree with him over other adults.
Mom and Dad want to protest, but the stranger simply raises a hand, and they fall silent. The stranger stands up. He’s not as tall as Dad, but there is something about the way he carries himself that makes him feel larger than he is. It makes Vanta instinctively take a step back. Then the stranger kneels down so they see each other eye to eye. His eyes are a fierce amber-orange, it reminds Vanta of a lion.
The stranger smiles. “Hello, Vantacrow. My name is Krystallo Kaneshiro. You’ve grown a lot bigger since I last saw you.” He reaches out a hand, offering a handshake.
Vanta glares at him.
Krystallo laughs and retracts his hand. “You don’t like me. That’s smart; most people realise they don’t like me until it’s too late. But I understand why you don’t like me. After all, I’m asking your mom and dad to leave you alone for a long time. It’s not fair, I get it.”
“But I have a reason for it. Maybe it’s not enough of a reason for everyone, but it is for me. I have a son, you see. He’s younger than you. He’s small, and he has asthma. He’s weak. He’s kind. He can’t protect himself as you can. He can’t fight. I should teach him, but I can’t bring myself to. I don’t want him to know violence. That’s why I need your mom and dad to protect him.”
“Then his own mom and dad should protect him. You’re big, you look strong. Why don’t you protect him?” Vanta retorts.
Pain flashes across his face, and his smile falters. “You’re a smart kid, Vantacrow. You ask all the right questions. The truth is, I’m not strong enough. I don’t stand a chance against your father, and even less of a chance against your mother, because she won’t hold back.”
“But I’m trying to protect him in my own way. I’m trying to create a world where he, you, all my friends, your parents, friends and family won’t have to be protected. Once I achieve that, I will never bother you and your parents ever again. Is that okay with you?”
Vanta furrows his brows in concentration, mulling over those words.
He then looks at Mom and Dad, then back to Krystallo.
“No.”
-
Mom knocks on his bedroom door, and it opens with a creak. Vanta watches her shadow stretch across the walls. “Vanta…” She calls softly.
“No.” He says, his back facing her.
“Vantacrow,” Dad warns, his shadow joining hers.
“No!” Vanta burrows deeper into his aeroplane blanket. He hugs Kurococco, his favourite crow plushie. It’s a bit damp.
It’s been a few hours since the stranger left. He spoke with Mom and Dad for a bit longer after Vanta stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him.
He feels the bed dip next to him as his parents sit down.
“Vanta…” Mom pleads again.
Vanta flings the blanket off him as he turns around to face them.
“You agreed! You agreed even after I said no.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But Krystallo needs our help.” Mom reaches out to wipe the tears on his face, but Vanta flinches away. She looks hurt. Good, he hopes it did, so she knows how he feels right now.
“I don’t get it. Why is this Krystallo guy so important? I know he’s your friend, but this is different.”
Mom and Dad share a look; it’s one of those looks where they communicate with their eyes. Vanta can never understand what’s spoken between them. It’s a language he comes to accept that he won’t ever know. It makes him feel left out sometimes, even a little sad.
Now, he feels frustrated.
Finally, Dad nods. Mom breathes out slowly and speaks in a low voice. “Vanta, you probably don’t remember. You were just one and a half. You were still learning how to run and wanted to show us. We were walking home and let you run in front of us, and a man grabbed you on a motorbike.”
“We chased the man. You should have seen your dad. I’ve never seen him run so fast since the time they were going to sell out his favorite donuts at the bakery.” Mom chuckles, but she looks sad. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Dad isn’t looking at him. He is staring at the aeroplane patterns on Vanta’s blanket. Shame, he would later learn of the expression on his face.
“But we couldn’t keep up. We lost him, we lost you. We didn’t know what to do, so we told the police. They couldn’t do shit. So we called Krsytallo. He was in a different district at the time, it was four am. He…I don’t know what he did, but he found you in three hours. He brought you home, safe and sound.”
“We merely worked for him as his bodyguards; we weren’t anyone special. But still, he helped us.” Mom takes his hands. “In this cruel world, people like us are insignificant, few care for the insignificant.”
“What does insignificant mean?”
“It means whatever happens to us, it doesn’t matter, especially to the rich and powerful. But Krystallo’s different, he didn’t have much of a reason to help us the way he did. But he did it anyway. He didn’t ask for anything in return, not even a favour.”
“But he’s asking for one now.”
“He is. But the truth is you’re alive because of him. We owe everything to him. It’s only right that we help him, to repay him for his kindness.”
-
He’s alone in his room again. He squeezes his eyes shut, and adults say closing your eyes helps you remember. He searches through the memories in his ten years of existence for any inkling of the kidnapping, a motorcycle, a dark room (people put kidnapped children in dark rooms, right?), any man with blonde hair and lion eyes, anything.
He doesn’t remember.
He doesn’t want to.
It could be a lie for all he cares.
-
“Your mother was lying,” Dad whispers the following night.
Vanta looks up from his legos.
Vanta, the spiteful little shit he was, is still angry at them. He went back to his room right after dinner, even though he would much rather watch his favourite TV show in the living room. He was mindlessly playing with his legos and Kurococco when Dad asked him to come in. They sat on the ground in silence for a long time until Dad finally spoke.
“I was the one who let you run ahead. Your mother insisted on carrying you, but I thought we were safe, and if anything happened, I could stop it from happening.”
Dad's shoulders are hunched, his brows knit in a frown, his lips, always in a soft smile, are downturned. Vanta has never seen him so sad. “But I couldn’t. I failed. You were kidnapped because of me. I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry.”
Dad leans forward and slowly pulls him into a hug. Vanta forgets he’s supposed to be mad at him and lets his sandpaper hands wrap around him. Kurococco squeezed between them.
“You’re safe now. You’re safe now, Vanta.” He says into Vanta’s hair, but it sounds like he’s saying it to himself rather than Vanta. “And that too is thanks to Krystallo. He helped us move here. It’s closer to the Nijisanji districts; there’s more mafia here to keep an eye on things. They will watch your back. We’ll call up Mrs Knox tomorrow. She’s a friend of ours, a nice lady. If she’s okay with it, she’ll take care of you when we’re gone.”
Vanta hopes that she will say no.
-
Mrs Knox agrees.
Vanta immediately doesn’t like her.
His opinion of her only worsens when he meets her officially two months later, as his parents drop him off at her house on their way to their first assignment. Her sharp, upturned eyes and high cheekbones give her a cat-like quality. The cheery air around her reminds him strangely of Krystallo.
He hates Krystallo.
She also has a five-year-old son named Alban. A small boy with mousy brown hair just like his mother, and mismatched brown and green eyes. Heterochromia eyes wasn’t uncommon these days, one of his teachers had them too, but it was curious to see them on a child. He can’t help but stare, they look very cool.
“This bird funny-looking,” Alban mumbles as he holds Kurococco upside down in his grubby fingers.
Vanta whips his head to his empty hand. He swears on his pinky finger that he was just holding Kurococco by his wing.
“Give it back!” Vanta snatches his precious toy back. As he glares at Alban, he makes a show of crossing his arms around Kurococco (who is not funny-looking and is the coolest and cutest crow ever!!!) and hugging him tightly to his chest.
Ms Knox barks a fit of laughter. “Don’t take it to heart, Vantacrow, Alban just wants to play with you.”
“Thank you for agreeing to take care of him, Mariana. Give my thanks to John as well. We owe you.” Dad says.
“You owe me nothing. What do your parents do for work, Vantacrow?” Ms Knox suddenly asks, bending down to meet his gaze.
Vanta straightens up. Look her in the eye, don’t make a funny expression. “They’re coaches. Sometimes they work as bodyguards.”
“For who?”
“I don’t know, their clients change all the time.”
“Do your parents work for the Mafia?”
A trick question, Mom and Dad never told him what to reply if people ask him that. He thinks for a bit before replying.
“Is that a company?”
Ms Knox remains emotionless. Then she gives a satisfied smile and ruffles his hair. Vanta wants to dodge away, but Mom told him to be polite. She stands up to face his parents. “Trained him well.”
Mom and Dad smile proudly at him. It makes Vanta feel warm. The warm feeling is rudely interrupted when a small hand grabs his shirt.
“How do you open?” Alban says, nudging a Spider-Man pop open watch at Vanta’s stomach, Vanta’s Spider-Man pop open watch, which is supposed to be clasped around his wrist.
Bewildered, Vanta grabs it back before Alban breaks it by trying to pry the cap open to reveal the watch. “Stop it! You press the button to open it. And stop taking my stuff.”
Alban sticks his tongue out at him, giggling hysterically.
“Play nice, boys.” Ms Knox laughs. It sounds exactly like Alban’s.
Vanta is about to yell at Alban some more when he feels Dad’s sandpaper hands rest on his shoulders. He turns his attention to them. They bend down in front of him, and the scent of orange and silver of Mom drifts over him.
Mom kisses him on the head. “Listen to Ms Knox and Mr Knox. Remember to brush your teeth in the morning. Do well in school. And what do I always say?”
“Tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye.” Vanta recites with every bit of his being.
“Yes, stand up for yourself. That’s why we taught you to fight. Not to do what you want, but to protect yourself and others.”
“We’ll be back in a week, we promise,” Dad says.
He is ten. Promises are everything for a ten-year-old.
“Please don’t go.”
Mom and Dad smile sadly. They pull him in for a tight hug of sandpaper and oranges and silver.
“We love you, son.”
They still left.