Secrets
by raisin bean
I.
It's a secret that the first time Bel met Mammon, he was instantly jealous.
He was eight years old, and could still remember his parents' blood. Surprisingly (to him at least), royal blood looked, smelled, tasted, and felt the same as commoner blood. He'd quickly dismissed it as a flaw in his parents, not the blood. After all, his blood was still royal and pure, just like him.
So, royal and pure and very young, Bel joined the Varia expecting to be revered not only for his noble lineage, but also for his precocity—how impressive that one so young could kill like a pro.
He very nearly threw a fit when he first saw Mammon, a baby in the company of the finest assassins in the mafia world. Worse yet, a baby who'd been a member before him.
He quickly decided that he would kill this baby.
However, he had to be sneaky about it. After all, getting caught in the act is the crowning shame for any assassin worth his salt. So Bel waited and waited and waited till the next day, then scampered after the baby when lunch was over.
The baby seemed to take no notice of the little prince who followed him. Bel quickly produced knives between his fingers. With a triumphant grin, he threw the knives he held in his right hand, then the ones in his left, and watched them fly to their target: Mammon.
But his smile broke into an 'o' of surprise when he saw Mammon disappear and the knives sank into the opposite wall instead of the baby's back.
"Foolish boy, did you really think you could kill me with that?"
Bel turned to see that Mammon had materialized behind him. Confused, Bel looked back at the spot where Mammon had once been, then back to the Mammon hovering before him.
"Magic?" Bel wondered.
Mammon scoffed, "Hardly. You really are an ignorant little boy to not know anything about the Varia."
Bel wasn't listening. He tugged on the hem of Mammon's cloak and said, "You have any more magic tricks? Show the Prince some magic."
Mammon obliged by disappearing again, leaving a puzzled Bel to wander the Varia manor in search of the magic baby.
It isn't really a secret that Bel was jealous of Mammon, but Bel likes to think so.
…
II.
It's no secret that the Prince gets bored easily. Even with the occasional missions—he always has a chaperone since he isn't old enough to understand the purpose of subtlety and secrecy in assassination, and he's just so proud to kill and too spoiled to know that if he's caught he'll be punished because no one can punish a prince, no one except the king, and he killed the king a long time ago…
Now there's Boss, and Bel doesn't dare try to kill Boss. He's too scary. But the other Varia members… not so much.
Lussuria is flamboyant and colorful, not at all like most men Bel sees. Sometimes Lussuria dotes on Bel like a mother, which is gross.
Levi is like a servant. He does whatever Boss wants, even when Boss doesn't say what he wants. Sometimes Bel tricks Levi into doing what he wants by saying Boss wants it. And sometimes Bel puts pins on Levi's seat.
Squalo is funny. He yells all the time. Bel likes to play with Squalo because Squalo always makes funny faces and lots of noise, like a clown.
Bel has always liked the circus. Perhaps if he hadn't joined the Varia, he'd have joined a circus. He remembers the man who could throw knives to outline the woman who stood against a board. He can do that now, but now the object of the game is to throw knives at the person, not around.
Unfortunately for the little prince, the Varia isn't quite as entertaining as a circus everyday. He has a roomful of toys to amuse himself with, but sometimes they just don't keep him. He strays to someone else's room.
Mammon's room is always dim. There are some occult wall furnishings, a few dusty tomes stacked in a corner, and ominous drapes over the windows. Mammon himself blends in with his surroundings, so not until he speaks does Bel spot him.
"Leave me alone, Bel. Go play with your toys."
Bel sits down and tosses a pack of cards onto the carpet before him. He starts to shuffle the cards by swirling them around in a pile.
"I don't want to play with those boring things. I want to play with you. You're my favorite toy."
Mammon wonders why he doesn't feel insulted.
"Mu," is his only reply.
"I like you best," Bel finishes. "Now play cards with me."
So Mammon settles across from Bel on the floor.
It's a secret between the two of them that Mammon likes Bel best too.
…
III.
It's a secret that Mammon has always regarded Bel as a child. A genius with indubitably lethal ability, but a child of one.
Bel finds out this secret three hundred and forty-three days after Mammon is first exposed to non-Trinisette rays (not that he'd been counting or anything), during which time Mammon suffers from headaches, lethargy, nausea, and occasional vomiting.
("It's like you're pregnant, Mammon," Bel once commented. Mammon hadn't deigned to reply.)
Bel prattles on about something (past kills, future kills, what's for dinner), and Mammon opens his mouth either to tell Bel to shut up, or to throw up. Then it happens in an instant, so quickly that Mammon himself doesn't notice the change immediately. He does notice Bel's silence though.
Mammon glances up at Bel (somehow, Bel is closer than before), and imagines Bel's hidden eyes are wide open beneath the long fringe, judging from the gaping mouth. Following what is presumably Bel's gaze, Mammon looks down and sees…
A long, narrow body wrapped in black robes stretches beneath him. His shoes, just the toes of them visible beneath the hem of his robes, are much bigger than the doll-size he remembers. And the distance! It seems as if his depth perception has been tampered with, his shoes look so far away.
Raising one giant hand to his face, Mammon feels the smooth cheek, the button nose, the round lips, so sweetly familiar. Then another hand joins his, but this rude hand seizes his cheek and pulls.
"Wow, Mammon, this illusion is really real," says Bel conversationally as he pinches Mammon's cheek.
Mammon smacks Bel's hand away. "Don't do that, impudent brat."
The sound of his voice surprises them both. No longer a high-pitched baby squeal, but a smooth tenor rippling with indignation.
Bel is too taken aback to whine about Mammon's abusive touch to his princely personage. Mammon's surprise is beginning to wear, soon to be replaced with elation. His body, this is his real body! The body he commanded when he rose to prominence as a master illusionist, and was invited to join the greatest in the world, the Arcobaleno.
But no one mentioned that the seven strongest people in the world would become the seven strongest babies in the world when they took the name 'Arcobaleno.'
Mammon's stomach clenches, his throat burns, he claps his hands over his mouth to prevent himself from spewing while trying not to gag on the sharp acid. He runs to the bathroom, so quick on his adult legs, and heaves into the open toilet for a few minutes.
Panting, he gets back to his feet in front of the sink. Yellowish liquid dribbles from his mouth, which he wipes with the back of his hand, and looks up.
The man reflected in the mirror looks like a ghost. The black hood hanging low over his face shadows his eyes, so only the small nose, the scowling mouth, and the triangular tattoos on his pale cheeks are visible. The ends of his purple hair nearest his cheeks are damp with vomit and spit.
Mammon always thought he would be overjoyed when the curse of the Arcobaleno was broken and he was himself again. But there is no triumph in this, looking at the pallid and drawn face with bitterness in his mouth.
Bel has apparently gotten over his initial shock because here he is at the bathroom door, peeking his head in.
"Still making sick all over yourself?" says Bel with a chastising tone. "Ushishishi~ Even when you look like a grown-up, you're still a baby, huh?"
Mammon turns on the faucet, rinses his hands and swishes water in his mouth to rid himself of the foul taste and bathes his face. When he straightens, he dries his hands and face with a towel, then walks out past Bel.
"Is it nap time, Mammon?" Bel calls. "Do you want the Prince to read you a story before you lay your pretty head down?"
Mammon pauses, turns slightly. "Princes only exist in fairytales, Bel. It's time you grew up."
This isn't the first time Mammon has said this to Bel, nor will it be the last. But it is the first time Bel actually listens to him. Perhaps because Mammon now stands only a little shorter than himself. Perhaps because Mammon's back is now broad enough that he had to exit sideways with Bel standing in the doorway. Perhaps because Mammon's voice is no longer squeaky and snigger-worthy, but now has the deeper sound of adult authority.
Mammon is older than him, Bel realizes, and always has been.
And now, thin shoulders shrouded in black robes, lips grey, looking down on Bel as surely as if he were as tall as the Boss, Mammon looks it.
…
IV.
"Useless pieces of trash," says the Boss, "I have something to tell you."
Of course everyone looks up since it's the Boss who's talking, and he usually doesn't talk during meals. His complaints are always reserved for before the food is served ("You have the balls to serve this shit to me? How about you choke on it first?"), or after he's finished ("Give me something of better quality next time, so I don't have to drink three bottles of whiskey just to wash down that shit.")
"Mammon is dead," the Boss announces, then promptly returns to his steak fillet, as that seems to be all he has to say about the matter.
There's something of a surprised silence. Death is certainly not unfamiliar to the Varia, but only because it's usually the Varia who causes death. Each member can count how many near-death experiences he's had on one hand—with the exception of Squalo, who's never had much consideration for his own life anyway.
"Ushishishi~"
Everyone turns to look at Bel, except for the Boss, but it is the Boss whom Bel is looking at.
"Shishishi~ Boss, that's not a very good joke."
Even the silence seems to say, "Bel, you damn fool."
The Boss fixes Bel with a steely glare. "I wasn't joking."
Bel's grin looks deranged, more so than usual.
"Boss, there's no way Mammon is dead."
"He's dead all right. That worthless shit got himself killed by a Millefiore agent."
Bel realizes he has a knife in his hand. He's squeezing the hilt so hard all the blood has drained from his white hand.
"It isn't true."
"Get it through your thick skull. He's dead."
"That's a lie."
"Mammon is dead."
"YOU'RE LYING!" Bel screams.
He's standing now. His knife quivers in the table. The Boss cuts off a sliver of meat, forks it into his mouth, then sets down his utensils beside his plate.
Bel knows what comes next. He welcomes it. He doesn't curl up, or try to protect his vitals. He flops like a rag doll. He feels the pain and hopes it's an illusion, that it's all an illusion.
His mouth feels strange.
He's not smiling.
Bel lies on his bed, aching inside and out. Although he knows that Boss pulled his punches, he doesn't have to see the bruises to know they're there. Lussuria didn't heal him either. "It's a fatherly spanking," Lussuria informed him. "He does it because he cares."
Bel would have laughed at that, but he is afraid he'll snap in half if he does, and not because of the beating he's suffered.
There are no more secrets. Now, there can never be any more secrets.
But no, that's not it, Bel realizes. There were never any secrets, only details he'd never bothered to put together. Mammon remembered all the details, then kept them secret. Mammon was good at that.
Well, this is a huge detail and no one can keep it secret. Mammon is dead, and, as Boss said right before he'd kicked Bel unconscious, there's nothing anyone can fucking do about it so get the hell over it, you weak piece of shit.
…
V.
It is a secret none but Uni and the Arcobaleno babies know.
As the pacifiers light up, Bel realizes with surprise that he is holding his breath and his pulse has quickened with anticipation.
"That means… Mammon is coming back too?" he says aloud.
The heat radiating from the pacifiers is palpable. The flames are almost blinding, but Bel can see through his narrowed eyes small figures manifesting in the brightness.
And there stand the five previously deceased Arcobaleno babies, each wearing his glowing pacifier.
And there, furthest to the back, stands Mammon as Bel remembers him best—bite-sized.
"Found you, Mammon," Bel says in a delighted, singsong voice. With no regard for the others who watch, although they really are more preoccupied with the other Arcobaleno, Bel runs over and scoops up Mammon into his arms.
(But that too is a secret because Mammon makes a veil to hide them from sight, and also a copy of himself to stand beside his fellow Arcobaleno. After all, he isn't about to give a public display of affection for free.)
Bel ignores everyone and everything else, too pleased with Mammon's reappearance to care. He walks with the Mist Arcobaleno baby in his arms like a prize, his trademark grin bigger and brighter than ever before.
"You know, I was right," Bel says conversationally. "Boss lied. You're not dead."
"Don't be absurd," Mammon replies, exasperation clear in his high-pitched voice. "Of course I was—"
Bel kicks away something in his path, and it diverts Mammon's attention from what he'd just been saying. He eyes the frog-shaped hat discarded on the ground. "What is that?"
"Ushishishishi," Bel giggles, "that's a secret."
Finally some closure for this dusty old thing.