CHAPTER 01.

Author's notes part 01 – chapter 01

Hey, guys! Noblesse is a great series that did a lot of things right when it comes to comic books. There isn't a character I don't like in the story, but if I had to choose I'd say my favourites are Tao, Takeo and M-21. And while M-21 had that character growth and seems like he'll be in the centre of attention for a long time (with Muzaka and the werewolves' arc in action), Tao and Takeo had their moments and a bit of character development, but… something is just missing. If you think about it carefully we don't really know anything about those two. What was their life before and during the DA5, how long were they in the Union, how did they get there? M-21 is all about mystery which is necessary for his character. And even though it's a mystery we could still answer at least partially to any of the above questions.

Who are Tao and Takeo?

Maybe they don't wanna talk about it… sure, I can understand that. But why? That implies their pasts being either terrifying or forgotten somehow. Since we know the cruelty of M-21's life and the madness of Dr. Aris, I'd say it's a combination of both. And we also know how M-21's self-appreciation, trust in others and normal socializing skills are severally damaged. Hell, his lack of discernment of good and bad is astonishing (at least at the beginning when he thought it would be fun to play with Shinwoo and the gang). Tao and Takeo sometimes show similar symptoms of a "brainwashed caged mouse". Their transition is far too quick in my eyes, especially in Tao's case. My dear child can laugh, make jokes and convince others to make fools of themselves even after all the shit he's been through. That's some serious coping mechanism right there.

Basically, this fic will be about DA5, Tao and Takeo in particular. I'll try to present to you some of the ideas I came up with while trying to figure them out. Hopefully, I won't go against canon too much. We weren't given that much information about them to begin with so I guess I won't gravely disrupt the story and the timeline.

Enjoy my friends, and of course leave some comments!

This is my first fic ever. English is not my first language so I apologies for any mistakes (you can point them out to me, I'll try to fix them).

I DON'T OWN NOBLESSE, just a few side characters and ideas I've stumbled upon while overthinking certain dialogs etc.

Oh, and yes, SPOILERS for the comic ahead.

Was it love?

"Are you telling the truth?" He asked with that look in his dark eyes that made Takeo feel like he should drop dead right there. That cold stare was so rare on Tama-san's face Takeo got the impression he was the only one who could make him grimace like that. When Takeo was younger he would try to convince himself he should be proud of it… privileged even to be the sole reason of the man's discontent. Somebody cared enough about a stinky little brat like him to be disappointed. Except, he wasn't. Not once did he feel special.

And this was a fifth time he received such a deep stab to his lungs. You'd think he'd get used to it. This time, however, it hurt a hell of a lot more because there was no reason for Tama-san to be acting this way and any of Takeo's attempts to make this situation seem as a show of affection in disguise was forlorn. All the other times he was upset with Takeo, the kid really did make some stupid mistake.

Like that time he shoplifted because the other boys from his class had been stealing chocolate bars every day. Not only did they go unpunished, but they had also been praised by their seniors. He didn't really like sweets, it's not like he lacked any food while living under Tama-san's roof. It's just that… if he proved he could be courageous and cool like other boys, maybe they'd let him hang out with them. Perhaps they'd even introduce him to the older students and allow him to participate in their ball games. Sure enough, his classmates had been astonished by his sticky fingers and fast legs… only for a day. Their attitude didn't really change, except for the fact they were now eagerly expecting Takeo to bring them stuff from the store as some kind of entrance fee to the fields, which made him fidget in his seat. He knew he'd made a mistake. That made confrontation with Tama-san when he found out about the stealing even more embarrassing.

Or how about that other time he struck a girl from school because she was spreading horrible rumours about him and Tama-san that all the kids found funny. Takeo admitted he had behaved foolishly, even though he was convinced the girl got exactly what was coming to her. It was wrong to make girls cry and you were a weak person if crude jokes and empty words could make you forget who you were. At least, that's what Tama-san said. He didn't really get it, he did, however believe in it. He believed in anything Tama-san said. He accepted Tama-san's glares and scolding knowing it was justified, that it will make him a better person, a man Tama-san would love and respect.

This time, tough, he couldn't understand why what he'd said was wrong. Was he telling the truth, Tama-san had asked him? He shouldn't have even been considering the opposite. Takeo was not a liar, he didn't lie, never, especially not to Tama-san. He'd rather cut his tongue off and he was sure Tama-san knew this so his answer was as unnecessary as the question.

"Yes." He did answer in the end and immediately regretted it. He wanted this simple word to sound stronger, angrier, because he sure was angry with that man. Instead, it was barely audible. He wanted to say it again like a man, not like some guilty child, but before he could even open his mouth, Tama-san slapped him.

Now that was new. To say it was shocking would be an understatement. That… Takeo wasn't sure he knew a word for the feeling he was struck with.

"I should fucking kill you right now." Tama-san said and Takeo almost laughed because death would be really good at this moment if it's gonna stop Tama-san from hitting him again.

"Tama-sama." Arata-san who had kept silent till now pushed the enraged man a little to the side. Tama-sama had lost control, it was obvious to his associate. Arata-san knew his boss very well, which didn't come as a surprise since he's been with him for more than twenty years now. Being high school friends, there wasn't a thing they didn't know about each other. Tama-sama was an expert in keeping his emotions in check even when he was at his limits. There weren't many buttons you could push on this man to begin with. Nevertheless, Arata-san knew exactly what they were. This little breakdown wasn't something Arata-san didn't expect given the circumstances, but… It was Takeo. They were talking about Takeo here, Tama-sama's Takeo.

"You think you have the right to make such decisions? Little brats go to school!" He was ready to slap him once more.

"Tama-sama!" Arata-san hardened his grip on the boss's hand. That calmed the man for a moment. Usually, this manner of restraint wouldn't work. The boss's word was absolute, no matter how deep the mutual trust between him and his subordinates went. Manhandling the boss of the Yakuza was not a smart move.

This time though, it wasn't just because Arata-san thought Takeo didn't deserve such a punishment. Tama-sama's health was in jeopardy. A month ago they had gotten involved in a minor shooting incident downtown which, to everyone's surprise, had resulted in Tama-sama being severely injured. They had almost failed in saving him from the crushed car before the police had arrived to the scene of the crime and uproar. Arata-san had been completely stunned when their doctors announced Tama-sama's right hand needed to be removed.

Naturally, he was in no condition to be in this kind of stress so soon after the accident. Hell, he shouldn't have even been out of bed yet, but that was Tama-sama for you, stubborn to the bone, which was one of, if not the only character trait that had kept him alive. For the last few days, he had been constantly fussing and padding along the corridors of the secured, private hospital as if his branch would fall apart if he wasn't there personally to deal with all the clients. His subordinates were more than capable to handle the job. They were loyal to Tama-sama, which made older bosses in town a bit jealous and vary. Over the years Tama-sama had become dangerous competition in the region. No wonder some of the small fry had decided to off him. It was a miracle they had managed to actually get so close to succeeding. Arata-san was furious that he hadn't seen it coming. Most of the "brothers" who were on top and close to Tama-sama were friends from high school. He highly doubted one of them would betray Tama-sama. If it turned out to be the case somehow, Arata-san would personally tie the bugger to a sack of sand and toss him into a river.

Right now, however, he was more worried than mad. As if this discussion couldn't wait a couple of days more. Was it that important? The stupid child was just overreacting. The memory of how Takeo had blanched at the sight of the amputated limb was carved deeply into his mind. Well, maybe he wasn't overreacting. But what happened to the mob boss really wasn't his goddamn business. You reap what you sow, Arata-san mentally blamed his friend. Just a day ago he told him for the umpteenth time to cut the ties with the brat. Did he listen? Taking in a runaway orphan, giving him shelter, food and clothes and education. Letting him hang out at their club with his underlings. He was already marked as a protégé of a Yakuza boss, all of town knew it. Heck, even other branches of the mob knew about a certain pet of Tama-sama. Takeo had never liked school. Being isolated and rejected by not only his peers but his teachers too, didn't help in the matter. What had Tama-sama expected? Takeo to finish school, enroll into college and lead a normal life? Tough luck. Even if all of the mentioned was not a problem, one fact still remained. Tama-sama was family to Takeo.

Of course the kid wanted to become a Yakuza, of course he wanted to stay by your side and protect you. Your little Takeo wanted to take the gun and kill all those bastards that ambushed us. He wanted to be just like you, Tama-sama. Why so surprised?

"I turn eighteen in two months." Takeo's voice didn't sound as convincing as it was at the beginning of this fierce exchange when he proudly announced he was done with school, that he was a Yakuza now. It seemed like that slap had shaken him pretty hard.

"That's still a brat in my book, you little shit!" Tama-san snarled at him.

"I'm no good at school." Now it sounded like begging.

"You think I don't know that? How many times has Arata explained math to you and you still fail every test?" He scowled at him. "Sorry, but I don't need stupid kids who can't count money!"

That was mean. And necessary.

"I'll be your bullet then. You don't need brains to shoot."

Of all the buttons to push. If it was easy to stop Tama-sama the first time, now it was almost impossible. Thank God, the boss was already getting weak, otherwise, Arata-san would have had to stand there and watch Takeo getting kicked in the guts. Despite the fact that his strength was leaving him, Tama-sama wouldn't go down without a fight. He resisted the grip as a Yakuza boss should, even at his weakest. He managed to pull on Takeo's hair and hit him roughly on the head, before Arata-san ordered the boy to back off.

It was a strange expression Takeo had on his pale face while he watched Tama-sama scream and swear. If Arata-san didn't know better he would have thought the kid was seconds away from tears. Mind you, the boss had never been so furious with him before, not to mention violent. He had never raised his hand to the boy. It was his principle not to, if there were anything like principles in their particular world.

Takeo had been hurt enough. He had never talked about it willingly. The boss was the only one who could make him open up when he needed to. His tactic was childish goading, but it did the trick. Takeo was not a real orphan. His mother had left the family when he had been young… well, younger. His father was not the greatest man. No. He was a bad man. The one that liked to drink and kick. The story you hear oh so many times.

He had been taken by child services fairly young, however, Takeo hadn't liked the place that sheltered other children, scared and broken like him. Because, actually, they weren't like him. He still had his mother. He just had to go to her. The people at the institute didn't let him. Takeo started to hate that place even more. He was a special kind of stupid. Couldn't solve the simple equation even if his life depended on it. He could, however, steal his file with his mother's information in it. He could take some money from a locked principal's office at the orphanage and he could jump over the wall and disappear into the night.

God knows how he managed to find his mother's new address without getting caught by the police the principal had called. Takeo had believed those people from the orphanage had taken his family away from him. He just knew they didn't even tell his mother that father was not a threat anymore, that she can come back and be with him, that he was waiting for her and loved her still. Takeo was sure that if she knew he was alone, she would come home to him running, just like he was running that winter night. Running so fast, because his mother was lonely. He was certain of it even when he reached the nicely decorated house in a rich neighbourhood. His mother wanted him, that was an indisputable truth, even though she looked very happy smiling with the unknown man and a baby in his arms. She must have missed him… even if she was dancing in front of a Christmas tree in the cosy living room. She thought about him… even if she didn't see him outside the misted window. She needed him… even if she didn't.

That had been the worst night in his life. He stood there in the stylishly decorated street looking dejected, his mind befogged while other children hurried to their homes for the family dinner, the scent of which filled the chilly air. That time, eight years ago, he had walked the streets for days and when it had gotten too cold to be outside, he'd slept in dumpsters. The monotony of his new life had been tiring and he had always been hungry. Starving. The thought of eating leftovers from the garbage made him feel pathetic, more than being hit with a belt. His dad threatening to sell him to a whore house he frequented had left a bitter taste in his mouth. If scavenging for food like a rat would make him feel even more worthless than he already felt, he was ready to simply starve to death. He thought about returning to the orphanage, but couldn't make himself go back. It was impossible to imagine himself being there, being the part of the charades and lies. Looking at those faces, listening to those voices. Like his own. No, his was now sadder than any of the abandoned children's. It was devastating. Unnerving. It made him hate them all.

Then a man picked him up and soon he forgot about the decorated house with the big shining tree.

Indeed, that had been a horrible night. The worst, tough? The sorrow he experienced tonight, stepping away from Tama-san in a dimly illuminated alley behind the private hospital was overwhelming. He wasn't sure he would be able to ever forget it.

"You lost some men. I'm a good shooter." Damn it, this was getting difficult. But Takeo never lied, and everyone knew he had a knack for shooting.

Tama-sama must be cursing the day he allowed the brat to play with a gun. Arata-san remembered how hard… or in this case how impossible it was to say no to a child's curiosity and pure… so much pure worship in its eyes that it was blinding. There was nothing dignifying in shooting a gun, both Tama-sama and Arata-san knew it.

Tama-sama had never wanted this life. He was an illegitimate son of a Yakuza boss so the group hadn't bothered him much about protocol and the way of business. Nevertheless, he had been expected to help the family somehow. The mob was always watching him, taking care of him, preparing him for the future and making sure other groups don't use him against their boss or worse, give him ideas how he should be the next one in line to succeed the family. No worries there, if he could choose, Tama-sama would flat out refuse to have anything to do with the mafia. Unfortunately, that was not an option. It had been decided that he would open a shop and they would use it for trafficking goods. Tama-sama could live with that. There were worse things than that, he was grateful. During high school, the boss lost his legitimate heir in one of the skirmishes and everything fell on Tama-sama's shoulders. Arata-san remembered how he had found his friend one day on the roof of their school. The drunken idiot had thought he could fly. At that moment, Arata-san knew what his destiny was. Making sure his best friend stayed firmly on the ground with his head held high.

So, unlike every other parent, when Takeo was so impressed by his cool "dad", there was no joy in Tama-sama's eyes, but fear. Arata-san knew that was the moment to send the kid away. He also knew Tama-sama wouldn't be able to do it. Just like he was unable to say no.

"Y-You need more gunmen."

"Over my dead body." Tama-sama must have realised shouting wasn't giving the wanted effect. His voice was ice. The kind that stabbed Takeo's gut.

"B-but… but, wh-"

"You're no good to me, brat."

"But I never miss!" Desperation hit Takeo like a cold bucket of water. It was obvious he was going to lose this fight.

"You don't have what it takes." And that was all the boss was gonna say about it.

What does that even mean, Takeo thought. What the hell does that mean? Sure, he was dumb, he was barely gonna finish high school. He still had trouble remembering all the rules of the mafia world and he couldn't read a word of English. He was good with the gun, tough. Very good! He was skilled in karate and judo and he was tall! Taller than an average Japanese man. That counted for something, right? He could be the muscle. He could be a sniper! You need those things! More than damn maths, right? Don't you need that? Don't you need me? I need you to stay alive, so why don't you need my gun? Isn't it normal that I need you?

"Go to the safe house." Tama-san ordered him. "And go to school tomorrow. Arata will take you."

So, why don't you need me?

"Takeo!" The boy heard Tama-san call, but he didn't wanna turn around and see his face.

"You go straight home, you hear me?" The boss said with a strict tone. "And don't you dare skip tomorrow. I'll kick your ass!"

Takeo was leaving, alright, not for the safe house, tough. That hadn't been his home in the first place. Not after he finished school and that would happen in a couple of months. He was not college material, but that wasn't the problem here. Tama-san had money so he would send him somewhere whether Takeo passed the entrance exams or not. Takeo had a feeling that somewhere would be really far away. And even if Takeo managed to someway persuade the man into giving up on him and his career of an ordinary salaryman, the boss would most certainly find Takeo some boring job outside of town, practically forcing the boy to move out. Takeo could almost hear the man's words in his head. You want to be an adult so much, right? Try living on your own and earning for your meals, you shitty brat. Takeo wouldn't mind such an outcome if that wouldn't mean that he would never see him again. Takeo was stupid for science, but he was no fool.

That was why it was so important for him to become a little "brother". A real official one. To be a part of the family, to stay. Forever. It was the right moment for it too. Tama-san was hurt. He'd lost his arm for god's sake. The boss was a strong, respectful, and a wise man. Now, however, he was vulnerable more than ever. Why couldn't he see that Takeo wished to make it easier for him? It wasn't pity. Takeo had never once thought that Tama-san would turn into a weakling just because he was a bit tired. He had no doubt that Tama-san would be just as dangerous and cool as he was when he could shoot with his right hand, as well. It's just that, Tama-san could relax if there was someone trustworthy to watch his back. He could take it easy and concentrate on getting healthy again. Takeo was more than willing to become the man's right arm. He believed that was the only course of action anyway. All of his training and hard work went into it. Of course, he had never imagined that it could happen like this. But this misfortune had made it even clearer to Takeo that he should take half of the burden now. It was so obvious, so why was everybody against the idea? He knew Tama-san could be annoyingly stubborn sometimes, but Arata-san was the smartest man on the planet and not even he thought Takeo's proposition held any value.

And that's why everything hurt. When you think about it carefully, the bottom line was…

Tama-san didn't want a brother.

Perhaps he thought Takeo would become a liability when it came to dealing with other branches. What if they tried to use him against Tama-san? No way, Takeo wouldn't allow that. Then… what if Tama-san believed Takeo would one day betray him and stab him in the back? If that was the case Takeo would be pissed beyond reckoning. No. No, it can't be that that's it. Never. So… so maybe… just maybe, he misunderstood. Perhaps there was a different angle he had yet to see this situation from.

Maybe he should be pleased because Tama-san wanted to spare him the life of such uncertainty. Takeo was not scared, however, maybe he was really stupid to see the bigger picture. He kinda knew that being a Yakuza was not necessarily an honest job. Tama-san and his people were not evil in Takeo's eyes. Neither they were good. They didn't give him much opportunity to see their work and judge, but Takeo knew that they did bad things to bad and good people. He was ready to live with that guilt, because they were his family that he loved. And they loved him.

On the other hand what if Tama-san was the one who was scared? Scared that he would lose Takeo in some gunfight. That wasn't possible, Takeo was skilled enough. What if Tama-san thought he would soon die in some gang war? He had almost died this time, but Takeo hadn't been there to protect him. If he had been… What if Tama-san thought that he would die either way? Was the boss afraid that Takeo would blame himself for his death? That was complete and utter rubbish. Takeo would gladly give up his life for that man's. Tama-san would never die if Takeo was by his side.

Nothing made sense no matter how much he tried to dig up the hidden meaning to Tama-san's refusal. There must be something, right? He must still care about him a little. Takeo was not mistaken, Tama-san did care about him to some reasonable extent to be able to stand such a messed up child for all these years, so he had to care now too. There's no way he'd change his mind all of a sudden. Takeo didn't do anything to make Tama-san hate him. Then again… he couldn't remember doing anything wrong to his mother either.

That wasn't the same, it couldn't be. Even when he hit him, it didn't sting like it did when his father became strange. It… stung… differently. Tama-san loved him… even though he wouldn't try to get him back if the boy decided to wander off somewhere.

Takeo was standing in the dark, empty street. He hid his long fingers in the pockets of Tama-san's old jacket. Others told him to get a new one. He liked this one, it was still warm, just like that night the bosshad wrapped up the starving boy with it.

Was it love?

The street was long and damp. It got colder.

How the hell should he know?

Author's notes part 02 – chapter 01

Yey, first chapter is done.

Takeo is a man of few words, he shows patience, loyalty and naiveté. He has a conscience – something he should as a weapon and an experiment lack. And he had it for a long time it seems, dare I say… from the beginning? You could say that's because he's a big brother (He's noooot – I whisper, spoiler stars sparkling in my eyes). But, yeah, him actually being a good, considerate human deep down, makes him a risk to the Union cause.

Was it really just fun for Dr Aris to pretend to be his little sister? Why did Takeo believe it so easily? I have a feeling Shark wouldn't be so sentimental towards his siblings.

See you next time.