Alright, as vaguely promised, here is the first installment of a completely random series of one-shots that can be considered a prequel to Nature Boy.
As a general rule, this collection will range in theme, character combination, and chronological order (meaning the next one could take place when the twins are 13, 12, 9, or any age before the start of the anime). I'll update as I get ideas, so don't expect regularity (though it's me, so I doubt you expect it in the first place...). I've listed the story as complete, because I reserve the decision to end it at any time (and because I'm lazy and don't feel like changing it from in-progress when I'm done)
Warnings: some angst in this one, but not much else. It will range from chapter to chapter, of course
Spoilers(duh): if you haven't read the manga or seen the anime...
Quick Note: The title of this collection comes from my lovely best friend, Don't Ask Alice. Clever girl, right?
Luella tried very hard not to fidget, but she was nervous and her hands longed to smooth the nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt. They'd met her parents, Martin's, her ditzy older sister and the Lin family, behaved beautifully yet somehow this meeting had her the most on edge. As if this would decide the happiness of the boys she'd claimed the moment she'd seen them. A ridiculous idea, but still, her fingers were inching toward each couldn't, though, not while Oliver was watching her for the slightest hesitation. No need to fuel his uncertainty with her own.
"Aunt Lu!" She tensed at the sound of her name, releasing a little oof as something hard made impact against her pelvis. "I missed you!" The words were spoken into her shirt as skinny arms wound around her waist and a face nuzzled her collarbone. So it begins, she thought, and returned the embrace gently, patting down a flyaway curl.
"I missed you too, Evie dear," she returned tenderly, pulling the young girl back enough to look at her. Three months was a long time, given that the girl practically lived in her home. And by the few phone calls Evie had intercepted from her mother, Luella imagined her 'niece' was ready to explode with anticipation. All she had offered in regard to the reason for her extended absence was a cagy 'it's a surprise.' Well, two surprises.
"How was America? Did you see the Statue of Liberty?" she inquired with her usual, bubbling excitement, balancing on the tips of toes while she bounced. The door to the library creaked open once more and Dahlia glided into the room, her thoughtful green eyes watching her knowingly. Luella knew that look, the lofty eyebrow and crooked smile. That look meant she couldn't keep a secret from the clairvoyant. She didn't know why she tried, really.
Sometimes, she hated that look.
Luella managed a fluttering chuckle through her nerves. Behind her, Eugene quietly echoed her. At the very least, Dahlia's adopted daughter hadn't noticed them yet. "The Statue of Liberty is in New York, dear. We were in California."
"Oh right. Did you see famous people then?" She had to wonder at the child's ability to seamlessly redirect her enthusiasm, all the while keeping an even rhythm.
"No, but we did visit a vineyard," she offered, giving in and wringing her hands together. It was only a matter of time before Evie noticed them, near silent and hovering behind her. Her round eyes locked onto her hands, no doubt reading their implication, and she began the search to sate her curiosity.
A pause, a heartbeat, Luella held her breath, then, "You brought home Asians? Why?"
"Evie!" she reprimanded through a laugh, turning to her best friend with a pointed look. Parent, parent your child! But then, Dahlia was always a little flighty when it came to discipline.
"Why are you looking at me? It is a valid question," she hazarded behind a smirk, her accent somehow leaching the innocence from her words. Luella suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the Frenchwoman.
"Please don't call them that, dear. You'll give them a complex," she muttered futilely. Evie was too absorbed in scanning their matching faces with her coal black eyes. The boys watched her just as carefully, completely identical in the blankness of their features. It was so strange to see them that way, Luella thought. Eugene almost constantly had a smile on his face, or at least some mischief sparkling in his eyes, while his brother analyzed his surroundings carefully, all with that old man's scowl to which she'd grown accustomed.
"Sorry, Aunt Lu," the twelve year-old relented, breaking her gaze to look up at her questioningly, "They're so cute. Can I touch them?"
There was nothing to be done. Luella slapped her forehead in useless exasperation. She should've expected this, but even so, she wasn't quite prepared to handle Evie's…eccentricities. "Evie, they aren't…they…." She groped for words even as she fought down laughter. Oliver had already broken, his eyebrows furrowed and a confused frown quirking his lips. "Uncle Martin and I have adopted them. Their names are Eugene and Oliver," she finished anticlimactically, peaking out behind her hand with a tired, affectionate smile at her boys.
Evie followed her glance back to the twins one more time before the revelation seemed to click. "Oh! So they're my cousins!"
"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes."
"Aunt Lu, we're orphans. 'In a manner of speaking' is all we have," she replied too cheerfully, sort of dancing closer to the boys and suddenly Luella felt like crying. Evie wasn't much bigger than the twins, not much older either. Close together, Luella could see the similarities, the way they didn't look down to each other, the way they watched before they spoke. How old was Evie when she was adopted? Four, five? The twins were eight. Too young, all of them, to experience that kind of loss. That much loneliness.
"Dr. Davis didn't mention this when he was selling the whole family thing. Do you think we'll see her often?" Eugene chirped in Japanese, and other than a few words she'd picked up from Dahlia's husband Luella couldn't understand. She had already decided to learn more, if in secret so she'd have a leg up on them. Until then, it seemed one more thing separating her from their tightknit world.
"I hope not. Her effervescence is blinding," Oliver asserted, eyeing the girl with well-disguised distaste. Luella tracked the minute narrowing of his dark blue eyes, clambering for something that would let her know what was happening. She wasn't sure how much silent appraising and muttered secrets she could take. It didn't help that Dahlia was tittering with silent mirth and notably not translating beside her.
"I hate to impose, but I have lessons with Martin every Tuesday and Thursday, so you'll have to endure me," Evie returned with crisp pronunciation, smile turned a little scathing. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, before narrowing into their typical icy slits. The two children had engaged in a battle of wills, one glaring, one beaming unnervingly, waiting for the other to faltered. All while Luella watched, feeling a little lost but mostly delighted that someone other than Eugene had prompted an emotional reaction from stoic Oliver.
A long minute passed, maybe two or three even, without breaking. It was the kind of confrontation that disquieted the room and yet begged for some amusement on the part of the bystander. She could feel the giggle rise in her throat at the sheer awkwardness of their first interaction, but tamped it down. Oliver was slowly relaxing, and her intrusion could revert his monumental progress.
"I'm Noll," he proffered simply, punctuating his name with a nod. Respect given, respect earned. Evie's smile turned true. Luella released a heavy sigh of relief. Good God, it's over.
Not to be outdone, the more social twin extended his hand and a beatific grin. "I'm Gene! Where'd you learn Japanese?"
"My father," she answered kindly, "he's from Kyoto. My grandparents don't speak English."
"That's where our grandma was from!"
Dahlia was the first to move. Her hand on Luella's shoulder, guiding her back one step, than another. Their input was done (as little as the clairvoyant contributed), and whatever happened among the children now was up to them. She wanted to stay, to watch them prod for similarities, but she'd had her turn with her boys for today. The bond she'd build with them would be slowly wrought and shaped. As intricate and developed and genius as her children. My children. Their bond with Evie would be a sudden fortification, sloppy and not quite stable but enduring, built from mutual understanding and loss and different.
She let Dahlia pull her from the room.
Hours later, after pressing her ear to the door a number of times (much to the amusement of her husband), she no longer heard the musical lilt of Evie's unshakeable accent, nor Oliver's clipped replies, nor Eugene's tinkling laughter. Something inside of her pulsed with worry, her hand on the knob before she'd even registered the impulse. Maternal instincts? She thrilled at the prospect even as her gut churned uncomfortably. The door creaked open beneath her hand.
Her worry melted, replaced by a feeling as strong as it was unidentifiable. This nameless emotion swelled and lifted and spilled from her in a restrained smile, held back because she thought maybe, irrationally, that she might cry, or laugh, or express some equally inappropriate reaction. Held back to keep the stillness and the scene.
They were asleep. All three of them. The twins were slumped together on one of the overstuffed couches by the fireplace, shoulders together and bracing each other's weight (her throat constricted), heads lulled so their inky black hair mingled. They looked so young, and then she remembered once more that they were young. Intelligence, developed personalities, abilities aside, they were eight years-old and they were sleepy. She stepped carefully, softly, some part of her looking out for her pseudo-niece and the other looking for the soft throw that Martin liked to cuddle while he read.
As she walked, her ankle hooked around something smooth and warm that threatened to pull her down to the floor. Of course. It was Evie's leg. In her distraction, she'd nearly tripped over Evie sprawled on the floor, head resting on one of the ornately embroidered pillows, face half-covered by the pages of a book. Blue leather, no title or author scrawled into the cover. Martin's book of ghost stories he'd heard and collected like jewels in a safe. Evie must have plucked it from his office, plopped down on the floor to read to them.
Something so base for children and their elders, yet she gave them the couch. Sat them above her. No pity, just a story or two. She found the throw, tucked it around her boys with gentle touch, and for the first time since they'd arrived, they didn't stir at the slightest jostling.
"They like it here," a voice said quietly, and only years of hiding her reactions from patients kept her from jumping.
Luella glanced back at her niece to see her wide, honest eyes and her sleepy smile, before drifting back to her children. My children. "Really?"
"Yes," Evie hummed, her breath reverberating across the pages she hadn't bothered to move, "They feel safe."
Her fingers carded through Eugene's hair. He was smiling in his sleep, turning his head into the caress. Silky and warm against her skin, so she knew he was real. Both of them were real. Hers. And they were safe. It wasn't enough to know that she could protect them, care for them. They needed to know it too.
"Noll especially." Behind her, she heard the thump of the book against the floor as Evie sat up. "I don't think he's been happy in a long while."
Luella turned her gaze to the serious little man clutching the blanket between pale fingers. He wasn't smiling, but his face looked relaxed and weightless as she'd never seen it. Rosy cheeks and long lashes and pale skin and such beautiful eyes hidden behind pink-veined lids. His mouth had gone slack in his sleep and by God he looked so tiny. Never helpless though. Noll could carry the world alone if she let him.
"I expect he hasn't," she replied tonelessly, letting her palm settle against his cheek.
"He's happy now."
She smiled for the sake of smiling. "I am too."
Aw, cuteness and baby twins. Please forgive Evie's social ineptitude, she doesn't mean any harm.
I'm thinking the next one will have young Lin in it...
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and as always, if you find glaring mistakes, I'll try to fix them!
