Saccharine
Summary: The birth of a killer through shades of red. Eventually, all children come to realize monsters do exist—in their blood. Ladd-centric
A/N: I just wanted to add more depth to Ladd's character. I love him to death but he is very one-dimensional in his drives/motives for killing. I just wanted to explore his background a bit so I'm sorry if it seems a bit OOC! Anyway, reviews are loved, as usual. Thanks! Also, to the guest reviewer (CM)from Rainwater I'm sorry I can't respond directly to your review; it's alright if you post a link or whatever to my fanfics, in fact, I'm flattered you enjoyed it so much!
Disclaimer: If I owned Baccano! all the light novels would be translated and it would be getting a second season.
i. scarlet
The ten year old boy sits on the leather sofa, kicking his legs absentmindedly as gunshots ring through the air. There's smoke and blood and screams but the child hums against the violence, eyes shut. He hums to London Bridge as more gunfire fills the office, until he cannot pretend any longer. His happy world of glossy storybooks and sheet music was crumbling to the sounds of death.
Opening his cerulean eyes, he is met with the sight of a crying man crawling towards him. A blood-stained hand grabs his leg, and, as if on reflex, Ladd kicks it away just as a bullet lodges itself in the man's spine. He falls to the floor with a thud, releasing his grip on the boy's shoe.
"Papa, why do you kill people?" His voice could barely be heard over the sound of heavy artillery, swallowed by the very bullets that whizzed past his lithe form.
A man with salt-pepper hair sighed, pumping his loaded shotgun before turning around to shoot a man at point-blank range. The body falls to the floor with a sickening thump.
"Ladd, you ask the funniest of questions. I kill 'cause it's fun. You'll realize it too, one day."
The blonde child hops from his seat, stumbling towards one of the numerous bodies that littered the office floor. A puddle of crimson pooled from the dead man, brown eyes glassy and open, as if daring the boy to take a closer look.
The liquid bleeds into the burgundy carpet, a bright scarlet that immediately grabs his attention. If he squinted, he could see his reflection. And it bothered him because he could see his father's grin when he smiled. Childishly, and without a second thought, the boy jumps against the puddle if only to distort the visage of the smiling man in the scarlet mess. Flecks of blood splatter against his clothes, face, and arms, but he pays no mind in his anger. A light chuckle from the other side of the room interrupts his tantrum. The boy immediately stills, turning to face the sneering grin of his father.
"That's my boy! You're a Russo through and through! You're just like your old dad!"
The cerulean-eyed boy clenches his fist, gritting his teeth in silent rage. "I'm nothing like you!"
His father lets out a loud cackle, moving towards his son. He ruffles his hair, laughing as the boy glares at him. Suddenly, the smile slips from his lips to a hardened frown. He pulls the boy up by his blonde hair, pressing a dagger to his throat.
He leers down at his son, voice dark and lacking of remorse, "Listen, kid. You are a killer. Nothing more, nothing less."
He pockets the knife and throws him into the puddle of blood (face to face with the unfortunate corpse) before walking away, locking the door behind him. The child is left alone in a room meant for the dead.
It is the last time Ladd Russo cries.
ii. vermillion
His sanctuary was music.
The lone piano in the Russo estate, past the drawing room and beside the stairs to the basement, was where he would spend the majority of his time. But, he wasn't always there alone.
"Mama, could you play something? Anything's fine." The boy fidgeted beside his mother, bare feet swinging animatedly against the piano seat.
"Of course, Ladd. How about a little swing music?"
The boy nodded eagerly, watching as his mom's fingers pressed against the ivory keys. Smooth music poured from the instrument as the boy hummed along. The beautiful blonde woman began to hum herself, long fingers elegantly playing against every key. Her finger slips off of the C key the moment the doorknob to the room turns, revealing a monster. The sound reverberates in the room, a harsh tone that fills the silence.
"Ladd, there ya are. It's time for your sparring lessons. Come on, leave the music to your mother."
The boy reluctantly slides off the seat, following behind the man. He turns one last time to look at her. She's crying.
It would be the last time he would ever see her express any emotion.
A few days later, when he slips into the piano room after another day of boxing, he would find her staring blankly at the sheet music. It is a funeral march.
"M-mama? What's wrong?" He shakes her shoulders but she does not respond. He pushes further to no avail. She doesn't move, not even when he plays her favorite little melody. His fingers also slip off the same key as his father enters the room. He turns from the piano, glaring at the grey-haired man.
"What did you do to her?"
"My son, I did nothing. It was all you. She was so worried for you. More so than any of her other children. She thought you were too kind, too gentle to be a hit-man. She wanted more for you. Wanted to enroll you into some stupid music program. I… persuaded her otherwise." He chuckled heartily.
"I hate you!" He runs at the man, tiny fists beating against his chest. His father laughs, pushing the boy away with a single hand. He falls to the floor, anger twisting his features.
"You're twenty years too early, kid. If you want to kill me someday, you're gonna have to get stronger." Oh, right, I actually came in here for a reason. Not just to humiliate you, I mean."
The man reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a pistol. The boy's eyes widened immediately.
"N-no… don't do this! Please!" He shields his mother, arms outstretched. The man pushes him aside, pressing the gun against his wife's temple with little emotion. He fires without warning,
She slumps to the ground, cobalt eyes open and opaque. Blood splattered against the keys, marring the ivory in beautifully disgusting vermillion. Ladd falls on her body, screaming as his father chuckles. But, he does not cry. He knew tears did not grant miracles. Especially for monsters.
"How touching. Ya know Ladd, I did this out of love. Out of mercy. She was a walking skeleton anyway. You're mother died a long time ago."
Ladd Russo never played the piano again.
iii. crimson
The room is dark when he enters. Eighteen years of practice, at the hands of the man he plans to kill, allows him to glide against the walls unseen. He cocks his father's shotgun, a wicked grin on his face.
"Daddy dearest… I have a surprise for ya." He coos, cobalt eyes twinkling with glee.
Bleary eyed, the man opens his eyes to see the barrel of a gun pointed at his forehead. He smiles.
"Ladd… you really are my son. I knew this day would come—"
"Shut up! You're nothing but an old fool!"
"And you are nothing but a monster."
The blonde youth gives a Russo grin, laughing.
"That's funny, pops. 'Cause this is the first time I've ever agreed with you." He pulls the trigger, watching as crimson paints the walls. He would even call it beautiful if it wasn't coming from the very object of his insanity.
"Ah, maybe I should've tortured him some. It's no fun when they die easy." And with that the blonde man walked out of the room, not even bothering to close the door.
…
He's handed over to Placido Russo, his 'favorite' uncle, after the horrible incident. Many assumed his father had been killed by another Mafia group. Placido knew better.
"Listen, Ladd. You can do whatever you want, as long as you don't sully the family name. Kill whoever ya want, steal whatever ya want, just don't bring our family name into it, understand?"
The blonde psychopath skips to the desk, holding his father's shotgun in his arms. He sits on the table, leering, "Of course, Uncle! You sure know how to make me happy! Don't worry, I won't disobey you… for now." He jumps off the mahogany desk, kissing his gun before barreling out the room. Screams of terror followed and the mafia boss shook his head in exasperation.
"Damnit, Ladd! Couldn't ya wait ten seconds before killing someone?"
A blonde head poked through the door as he held up a dismembered arm. "Sorry, uncle! I'll try to control myself next time! I got ya a present though; look at the ring on this hand! Bet you could sell it for quite the pretty penny!"
"Get out!" Placido roared, face flushed red in anger.
"Alright, alright, I'm leavin.' Geeze, I was just tryin' to show my appreciation for your… guidance these past couple of years. That's all." He strolled through the double-doors (not before depositing his 'gift' on his uncle's desk) sulking as he reluctantly kept the gun at his side, to the relief of the rest of the Russo family and their associates.
"That monster… he's just like his father." Placido muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. That kid held no loyalties to the Russo family; he was absolutely unpredictable. He was the wild card. And hopefully, the man thought, reclining in his leather chair, someone who could be used.
iv. rust
Ladd Russo spat into the porcelain sink, clutching the bowl in disgust. His blood mixed with the water flowing from the tap, turning it a sickly orange shade. Like rust.
Wiping his mouth, the blue-eyed monster padded towards his bed, falling against the side of the mattress. His head throbbed from the punch, room spinning as he tried his best to regain his bearings. He was certain he was going to lose a tooth at the steady flow of blood that trickled from his mouth and grimaced. The killer hadn't expected a mob at his contract and was sure his 'favorite' uncle had arranged it since he was always trying to find a way to both further the Russo family name and get rid of his nephew. It was nothing new for the man. No one cared for him. Well, no one alive.
"Ladd… come sit by your mother. I want to sing you a lullaby…" A voice from his past echoed as the memory surfaced. A spring morning. Caramel apples and the heavy scent of rain. A lullaby to help him fall asleep and ward off the monsters…
"Shut up!" He roared, clutching at his aching head.
"Ladd, I love you. Please, always remember that." Her radiant smile invaded his vision, causing the man to curl up into a ball. He squeezed his eyes shut as memory after memory played like a reel in his mind.
"What's wrong, sweetie? Why are you crying? I'm right here now… everything will be all right. I'll never leave you." She had hushed, cradling him to her chest as he sobbed into her shirt.
For the first time in years, the man felt the pinprick of tears behind his eyes. He blinked them away, growling in frustration. "You were a liar! You left me alone! With him!" Ladd's voice echoed in the empty house, dissolving into the night.
There was (as there hadn't been many times before) no response.
The blonde picked himself off the floor, eyes cast to the floor. His mother had been wrong. She couldn't protect him from the monster that lived in the same house as them. Or the monsters who dwelled in his head.
So, with the taste of rust in his mouth, the youth decided to enjoy his monsters. To enjoy his sanity. Because nothing else made him feel more alive. Not even the broken piano he had taken from the Russo family estate. It was just a trinket, an heirloom. No amount of dust or tears or hands against the ebony keys would bring back his innocence.
He was born a monster.
A/N: I've been reading the light novel translations but I can't find the one that deals with Ladd's fiancée (the one before Lua), Layla. I know I've seen a pic of them together but if anyone could point me in the direction of the novel (whether it be a link or just the name of the novel I would truly appreciate it). Thanks!
-Isis