It was strange.
Jekkanadar glanced out of the window, watching particles of sand fly outside as a sandstorm picked up. Insane as it sounded, his father was out there somewhere. Actually, he had been for years, no sign of his sharp pale face or cold blue eyes anywhere, except on his son's own face.
"Sulking never helped anything."
A female voice filtered in through his roaming consciousness, amazingly bringing him back to the real world. A pair of grey eyes bored into his, the strong odor of a cigarette hanging about the room. Blue eyes narrowing, he returned the amused look with a glare, answering with a snap.
"I am not sulking. Let's see how you turn out when your father vanishes."
Aerin tossed her ebon tresses over her shoulder in a carefree manner, the subtle roll of her eyes clearly portraying her feelings concerning the subject.
"My father is dead, in case that happened to slip your mind. I didn't know him, anyways."
She replied smoothly, speaking past the cigarette hanging out of her mouth. It was a bad habit, which had begun when the girl had found a stash of her father's cigarettes in her mother's things. An odd reminder of his memory, she surmised.
But I knew mine, and I miss him. The teen subdued a sigh, blowing pale bangs out of his face. It was actually an old wound, but since when to wounds inflicted by loved ones ever close up?
Both of their eyes turned to the stairs as a rhythmic thumping echoed down the stairs, heralding their uncle's arrival. No one ever called him that, thinking the name didn't fit the tall, goofy adult. He also wasn't Aerin's real uncle. His spiked hair nearly brushed the ceiling as he walked towards the table; long legs folding as he collapsed in a chair.
"Hey, Vash." Jekkanadar murmured, giving the man a forced smile. Vash returned it, though his was a bit more genuine.
"What are you doing up this early, Jek?" He asked, slipping a donut into his mouth and taking a large bite. Silence answered his question. He looked at Jekkanadar and found that his nephew was doing the same to him.
Blue eyes met blue as they shared an understanding look, and Jekkanadar rose from the table. Aerin rose with him, following him out the door.
"Where are you going?" She asked curiously, a small hint of concern flickering within her words.
"Somewhere I should've gone a long time ago." He answered quietly, fingering the black gun on his belt. Aerin suddenly understood, and her eyes flared as she darted forwards to stand in front of him.
"I know you miss him, but the only thing you'll find on those sands is death!" She yelled, slipping up onto tiptoes so she might seem a bit taller. She couldn't match Jekkanadar's height, though, which was nearly equal to Vash's. So much for being intimidating…
"I've always respected your opinion, Aerin, which is partly why I've stayed put all this time," He started out calmly, but he couldn't hold the anger out of his voice for long, "But you've just been holding me back! You don't understand why I have to go, you never had a father!" As the last words slipped out, he realized he had gone too far. Aerin's head slipped down suddenly, but Jekkanadar still saw the tears in her eyes.
"No, I never did." She whispered, shoving past him and stepping into the house. The door slamming shut behind her, Jekkanadar bit his lip as he heard sobs through the wall.
He closed his eyes, allowing the uneasiness to fade away with an ease that came with practice. It wasn't the finest good-bye he had hoped for, but he wasn't exactly skilled at farewells anyway.
Slipping on the bag that sat against the door, he fingered his gun once more as if to draw reassurance from it. He was on his own now, just as he had always wanted it.