part one: how could you become new, if you had not first become ashes?

or

Saya, and life with the Sakamaki Brothers pre-Yui.


All my friends are heathens, take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don't make any sudden moves
You don't know the half of the abuse

'Heathens', Twenty One Pilots

Immature children, all of them, Saya thought as she made coffee. It tasted slightly off when she made it, not quite the same rich, robust brew it could be, but she could still taste the coffee's flavor and drink it hot, so Saya settled for the mix she had found in the kitchen, which lacked the richness altogether and barely qualified for what she considered coffee. Reiji was a tea drinker, and the look of utter contempt he had given her when she inquired about coffee in the household had been more than enough to let her know that they would never see eye to eye on their choice of caffeinated beverages. He would prefer his black teas, and she her coffee in the evenings to wake her up.

Coffee in the evening. The time of the Sakamaki residence was adjusted to the vampiric life, where the daytime was for slumber and nighttime when they were active. A former wanderer, Saya had no concerns or difficulties with adapting to such a lifestyle.

In the meantime, Subaru raged at having been made the errands boy for the crime of being the youngest.

"Why me again?!"

"Because you're the youngest," Laito and Ayato chorused. Sometimes she marveled at the mystery of their being related to each other, but sometimes she could see it.

The pale-haired boy snarled in fury and smashed his fist down on the table. It did not break, though it shook and there was a protesting sound made in response to the blow. A strong, thick table carved out of fine quality wood, Saya thought, appreciating the furniture in the mansion. It would have to be, to even have a chance of keeping up with the abuse the residents put it through.

Although she had no room to talk, having contributed her share to destruction in the short time since she had arrived.

"Someone will have to get the groceries," Reiji said, voice frigid with annoyance. "As I am the one doing all the cooking in this household, I refuse to do any more for you lot. Do your share, you useless idiots."

His words had exactly zero effect on his brothers, but made Saya pause in her observations of the brothers to think. Karlheinz, she had made a deal with. Spending his money was included in said deal, and so she felt no obligations towards that man other than what she had agreed to in their pact. The food, on the other hand, the food that she ate every meal, was cooked by Reiji.

They didn't need food, not really. More importantly Saya didn't need food.

But she did prefer it. Blood was for sustenance, and food for the filling feeling that gave the illusion of contentment from habit. When she was hungry she became more likely to fall into depressing thoughts.

And, based on the call Karlheinz had made to her regarding the Nephilim's release, she was partially responsible.

Saya set down the cup, decision made.

"I'll go with him," she volunteered, and the Sakamki brothers all fell silent.

Well, until Laito spoke up, that was.

"Wow, Bitch-san, I didn't know our baby brother was your type," he simpered. "But do be gentle with him, he's still an innocent virgin-"

Saya didn't even have to punish him this time.

"Shut the hell up!" Subaru roared, and grabbed the mug from where she had set it down to throw it at his brother's head. The contents spilled over Ayato and Kanato on the way, and a four-way fight started immediately.

Saya mourned her lost coffee and peace as Reiji took a very calm look at the mess being made and Shu crept away before he could end up being pulled in as well. That had been the last of the mix coffee in this house.

At least she could pick some more up.


"Why are you here, anyways?"

For the life of her Saya couldn't tell what the difference between 1% and 2% milk was. There was literally a percent's worth of difference according to the labels, and surely it wasn't that significant when it came down to it.

No one in the household was fragile enough to die from a percent's difference in milk. Of that Saya could be certain even without really understanding what significance the percentages even held.

Still, she shouldn't make this decision by herself. Not when there was someone to consult regarding the matter.

"Which one should we get?" Saya asked, pointing to the cartons stocked in the refrigerator's shelves. They had the same brand and pictures and everything, it was just the number presented and the color used that was different. Even the price was the same, which didn't make much sense to Saya. Why differentiate, then?

Subaru scowled.

"Don't ignore me!" he hissed.

"I'm not. That's why I'm asking you for your opinion – which one should we get?"

He grabbed the 1%, though it looked more like he had snatched it up without even checking what he had chosen. But since Saya didn't know much about milk, she merely sighed and let him drop it into the cart.

"Why are you here, anyways?" Subaru repeated the question as they made their way to the eggs.

"Here, meaning the mart, or here in general, meaning the manor and with your family?" Saya asked for clarification. Was there a difference with brown and white eggs? Organic was probably better than not, right? It cost more, but it was Karlheinz's money, and he could afford it.

"The ma – both," he amended midway. "Both."

Fumito, when teaching her how to make tamagoyaki, used white-shelled eggs. On a whim she chose the brown-shelled ones and hoped it wouldn't make egg rolls harder to make. Color meant nothing for egg quality, hopefully.

"I am here, at the mart, because of the point Reiji made," she said. A dozen eggs . . . were probably not enough. She let it sit in her hand for a few more seconds, taking in its weight, before replacing it with a pack of thirty eggs. That would probably be enough for a few days. But then again, Kanato said he liked pudding, and as far as Saya knew eggs were ingredients necessary for pudding. "If he cooks, then it makes sense for me to pull my share by picking up the ingredients."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You don't need to eat." A probe to see what she was.

"But I like to." She didn't trip over it. "Besides, it seemed unfair for you to be the only one to go grocery shopping, and especially for the reason of being the youngest."

That, and part of the fault was with her. The usual familiars could not be spared for the venture because Karlheinz needed fodder for his strategy without her, and while the direct reason for the lack of servants was not known to the brothers Reiji had definitely noticed the absence of many familiars.

Subaru ran a rough hand through his hair.

"Liar," he muttered.

Saya didn't bother responding to that.

"As for why I am at the manor," she said. "Karlheinz sent me."

She could hear his teeth grind together.

"Damn bastard has some nerve," he muttered.

Indeed, Saya agreed. He did have quite the nerve, with what he had planned. A revolutionary that would stop at nothing to achieve his goal, no matter how many were burned by the flames of change.

But she was an accomplice and using the mad revolutionary for her own selfish desires at that, so she was hardly better off.

"Relax," she told him instead. "He's been clear to me that I should refrain from killing you all." He did, of course, give her permission to kill a few if they deserved it, but it was better to not mention that part yet.

"Hah!" Subaru barked out a harsh laugh. "Like you even could."

Saya eyed the cart.

"Should we have grabbed butter?" she asked, before they were out of the dairy section. "And yogurt?" And was that thin carton of milk really going to be enough? Should she grab another one? Maybe this time the 2% to cover her bases.

"You're not even fucking listening." This one was easily riled up. He hadn't given her reason to use force against him or tried attacking her again after the first time, but he lost his temper easily enough given some prodding.

"Of course I am. And of course I could." Yes, another carton of milk it was. And butter made things taste good, so that was also needed. "Please remember who it was that threw you across the room the first day I arrived."

Subaru was the one to initially give her the faint impression that the brothers cared for each other, rushing from the direction of where she now knew the gardens to be at the sound of marble floors cracking under the force of Ayato and Laito being smashed against them, and lunging at her as soon as he caught sight of what was going on in the lobby. It was a misconception that was cleared up soon enough, yet not entirely untrue.

Saya eyed him discreetly. The youngest, and perhaps because of it even in this dysfunctional family he got along with most of his brothers. Relatively.

"That was because I didn't see you coming," he snapped.

"Did Reiji want any cheese?" she wondered. Subaru had lost the shopping list, and now they were working off memory. If Reiji complained, then that was too bad. A good chef didn't blame his ingredients.

"Fuck, no."

She ignored his coarse language and took his word for it. After the dairy section there was the meat and fish. Bacon, chicken thighs and wings, and salmon were what she remembered. Subaru had nothing more to add.

It was when they arrived at the bakery that he spoke again. "Is it true?"

Saya sighed. Karlheinz was a con artist and a bastard who deserved to go to hell. This was not 'a little difficult', this was a family that didn't understand the importance of proper communication and made everything harder than it needed to be. "Be more specific."

The silver-haired boy that most resembled the king of vampires fidgeted, fingers twiddling slightly before he spoke. "That you beat Ayato in a swordfight."

Oh. That.

"Yes. Do you not talk to each other?" Ayato was a proud boy, and was likely to not go around broadcasting his loss everywhere, but asking her instead of his own brother?

Where Karlheinz wore his silver hair long and mysteriously framing his face, edges dyed a scarlet like they had been dipped in fresh blood, Subaru wore it short enough that no trace of the red showed anywhere except his fierce eyes. Where Karlheinz liked to wear layers to hide what he truly thought or felt, it showed all too easily on his youngest son's face.

Said face darkened. "Hell no."

Remembering how the morning had played out and how her coffee had been sacrificed in the conflict, Saya nodded in understanding. Perhaps she should be grateful that Fumito never gave her a sibling in the six scenarios he put her through between memory wipes.

One less bond to break her heart with, a part of her thought cynically. How kind of him.

Three loaves of French bread, two cakes and a tiramisu later, Saya looked over the rest of the items in the glass case. Nothing that particularly drew her eyes. No marshmallows of any kind.

Disinterested, Saya turned her attention back to the cart, now half-full.

"Just the fruits and vegetables now, I think," she said. "And then I want to get some coffee. Proper coffee."

Subaru grumbled under his breath but didn't protest. For all his short temper and cursing, he listened fairly well.

Only once they were done paying for all the groceries and in semi-privacy did he speak to her one last time.

"I hate that man," he said, eyes burning with rage. It wasn't as dramatic when he had an armload of groceries with bags hanging from both arms, but Saya was in the same position and hatred, true hatred could never be made petty so easily by plastic bags filled with produce. "I hate him more than anything in the world, and whatever he's up to with you, he can go fuck himself with."

This family had problems, to say the least. Saya spared just enough kindness to not say her words out loud.