When he was young, he had hated the place he lived in. The building was damp and dark and constantly seemed to smell of body odour and rotten fruits. There were too many bodies crammed into too little space, it was a wonder the establishment could continue considering the borderline inhumane conditions that they were left in night after night.
He had hated how it was icy in the winter with what might as well have been a potato sack for a blanket, hated how hot it was in the summer with all that sweat and humidity when the window jammed. He hated how he was left there, at the gates, with just a blood-stained baby blanket wrapped around him, his umbilical cord just barely scarred over.
He had hated how, when the town would throw their shady cult-esque parties, they would keep him up all night with their drunken screaming. It would wake the other children and the babies would screech from down the hall. Nights with fairs were nights of suffering and headaches where he couldn't even recede into the protection of unconsciousness for relief.
Now, as 'Renato' watched Silvestro Russ eye a sweets and candy stall, he thought that he might just come to enjoy the occasional street fair.
"Ooh, this is good," Silvestro hummed, licking her fingers of chocolate-coated honeycomb bits, the plastic bag pinched between her last two fingers and heel of her palm in a practised hold. "Do you want some?"
"Huh?" 'Renato' blinked his attention having vectored upon the single moment where she gently suckled on her own fingers. "Oh, thank you bella."
"Careful, it's sticky," she warned as he plucked up a chunk and popped it into his mouth, the sweetness immediate. "So, do you live around here?"
The chunk in his mouth was too large to chew quickly, and it stuck to his pallet as he tried, the question coming too soon and making him panic just a touch as he covered his mouth and flailed despite himself.
"Oh, sorry, eating, right. Uh, take your time," she laughed.
Eventually, the honeycomb became a rolled-up tacky in his mouth and he could manage an answer, swiping his tongue over his teeth in a quick once over just in case before he opened his mouth.
"I live a bit further away than this, more towards the coast than the shire we usually run in."
"Quite literally," she murmured, getting a chuckle out of the man.
"Yes, but I did apologise for that incident," he defended.
"After you had run off."
"Yes, well, I very well couldn't leave my drunken buffoon of a companion prancing about the shire in a bathrobe could I, my darling?" the man whined, scraping some residue chocolate left on his thumb onto his tongue. "But conceded, the experience as a whole was less than pleasing for you and I will apologise for that."
"That's all I needed, 'Renato'," she huffed, the smile in her voice, "No need for all that beating about the bush."
The correction was on the tip of his tongue, but he held himself. Of all the voices, that was the one - bouncy with light laughter but gravelled with the command of victory - that he wanted to hear his chosen name spoken by.
But 'Renato', that sounded nice too. A favourite of his names and perhaps the closest thing anyone would ever utter to the name he was called in that building with too many children to a room.
"The coast you said, what are you doing around here then? A bit far from home."
"Work brought me out, but it does have such a nice atmosphere to it," he hummed, "Very peaceful. Connected."
"Yeah," Silvestro smiled softly, "It's a nice place."
'Renato' took a moment to memorise the lilt of her voice and the softening of her eyes, her gaze that was usually so stern turned affectionate as she remembered the little town.
"What about you?" he asked, the two walking side by side in the crowd, so very overdressed but not in the least uncomfortable. "Have you lived there for long?"
"Bought that little apartment a couple years ago. Just out of my teens," the woman answered, looming over the fence of a children's petting zoo, a group of yellow ducklings pressing themselves to the wiry border as if to leech the warmth which radiated from her shins. "But I didn't spend too much time there compared to the barracks and campaigns..." There was a beat of silence. "But I guess I'm here to stay now. Might be good, to have some consistency."
'Renato' made a sound and folded his hands behind his back, observing the way she seemed to curve her stature to seem less threatening to the young creatures, but instead, must have looked like some looming shadow to those below. He found it vaguely adorable how she tried, and smiled to himself as he stepped out of her blind-spot and into her peripheral, his smile stretching with humour as he saw how she relaxed slightly when she could observe him.
"Did you enjoy your time serving?"
"I met a lot of people I would never have had I stayed home and became a secretary," she hummed and 'Renato' had to stop himself from snorting, imagining this woman contained behind a desk in those white-walled cubicles. "It was good. I'd do it again if I could. It had its moments, though, where I swore I'd stomp on my drill sergeants' throat."
The man took a long inhale at the words and didn't move as the woman walked on, his mind working to override his body. He couldn't scare her away; he hadn't won yet.
Keep the goal in mind.
"Bella," he purred, catching up and falling in-step with Silvestro. "Tell me more about yourself."
"Hm," Silvestro hummed, blinking ahead. "What else is there to say? Other than being an ex-soldier I'm pretty...meh."
"Surely not, my lady! You are the beloved groundskeeper of Balletto Giovanile Bacigalup for one! Tell me about your work, what does it entail?" he pressed, and they ducked into a shaved ice stall. "I'll allow it, bella, but no more dairy tonight. That honeycomb was absolutely caked in chocolate."
"That's the point, string bean," she snorted before taking a raspberry cup as he took blue lemonade.
Despite how cold it was that night, Silvestro didn't hesitate to shovel a decent-sized clump into her mouth and crunch down, the chunk of ice not standing a chance against the muscles of her jaw. They walked a bit further before finding what seemed to be the centre of the fair, a small park lined with benches opening to them and they took a seat beneath a string of golden fairy lights which tripled the shadows over themselves.
"My work," Silvestro began thoughtfully, letting her spoon linger on her bottom lip for a moment. "I just have to look after the grounds, like watering the plants and rotating them with the seasons. Pick up any trash that ends up in the gardens or lawn, get rid of cobwebs and pests. Repair stuff, build stuff...just, stuff like that."
"But I've seen you in the classroom."
"Well, I do help Amelia with the classes sometimes. Sometimes I just watch," she shrugged, her lips playing at a smile as she stared off for a moment before she blinked and turned to her bench-partner. "What about you? Your latest job?"
'Renato' hummed and leant back on the wood, absently scraping some blue tainted ice onto his spoon.
"A corporation had hired me for some contract work that took me to Rome," A Family had needed a hit in Rome; some guy had been selling their secrets and needed to be taken care of quietly to avoid embarrassment. "Just some advising for future endeavours and sorting out a...minor information leak. It only took a little while, got the task done before they expected me to, so I got a bonus."
"Oh, is that usually the kind of work you do?" Silvestro asked and he nodded noncommittally.
"Just about. That's the most common, but sometimes I get an oddball. Those are always exciting."
"What kind of 'oddballs'?" she urged, taking another chilled bite.
"Oh, just some out-of-the-blue sort of jobs which are sprung upon me. The ones which I really have to work for are the best," he glanced at the woman out from under the brim of his hat and watched the way her red-tinted tongue swiped over her lips absently. "There was one job that took me weeks to finish. My employers had asked me to carry out a business deal," track down someone and drag the information out of them, kicking and screaming. "And, gosh, did the other side drive a hard bargain."
"It sounds like you get a lot of important jobs," Silvestro commented, looking to 'Renato' as he scraped a portion into his mouth. "What kind of school did you go to to get so many qualifications?"
"I'm what people call a 'prodigy', bella," the man laughed easily, "Studying came to me naturally, and I can take in information like an academic sponge."
'Renato' felt his lip twitch as the woman sighed through her nose, knowing he had only dodged that question because she had let him and decided not to push. He'd have to be sure to answer her next question directly then, otherwise, his lovely goal will wander away, and he couldn't have that.
The mountainous woman shifted on her seat and her coat fell from her shoulder, revealing the muscles of her arm and how her skin went up in goosebumps from being exposed to the cold air. She quickly covered herself again and looked down at him, glancing away when she caught his eye.
Yes, 'Renato' couldn't let this one run off too soon.
His thoughts were interrupted however as Silvestro's mahogany eyes were pulled from the ground and seemed to be drawn to the sounds of harsh rubber 'pings' and the sound of metal cans tumbling over. He watched as the woman was on her feet and followed the sounds, glancing over her shoulder once to make sure he was following.
'Renato' blinked and quickly took the cup of raspberry ice as Silvestro moved to the stall of the shooting game - rigged, definitely, but he could tell she didn't really care. Ah there it was, 'Renato' thought to himself as the woman tossed down the game fare, the anger he knew hadn't quite been run dry from earlier. Silvestro hadn't taken it out on him, nor had she tried to let it seep into the rest of their time, but it was living under her skin and would not fade easily.
God, that had to be his worst slip up to date. He should have looked into just what kind of plays that evening's entertainment was specialised in. He had thought just knowing their names and backgrounds were enough, obviously, this was a lesson learnt.
And maybe a price worth paying, 'Renato' thought as he watched Silvestro draw up her rubber-loaded gun with one arm, seemingly unhindered by the loss as she aimed and fired with less than a few seconds in between, The man's hand pulsed for a moment as he beheld the woman knock down rows of cans despite how they shouldn't have fallen. The look of indignant displeasure on the vendor's face was all the more sweet to 'Renato' as Silvestro displayed prowess and he stood beside her, minding her sweets.
"Pick a prize, lady," the vendor scoffed, and Silvestro pursed her lips for a moment before pointing at a large tabby cat plushie and had it passed it to her.
"It's soft," she murmured as she hugged it to her, rubbing her cheek against its head.
"Guess it's my turn then, bella?" 'Renato' hummed challengingly, quirking an eyebrow as the woman eyed him, bottling away her dwindling aggression again to let a smirk pull at her painted lips and she stepped aside to let him fill the stand.
"Think you can beat me, stringbean?" Silvestro cooed, and he had to ignore the way his body caught on fire at the playful tone, wondering who else she had unintentionally used that timbre on.
'Renato' put their cups on the counter of the stand and took the gun from the man, getting a feel for it instantly and bringing it up, staring down the barrel. He let his lips curl before shooting down two towers of cans in a matter of moments.
Silvestro let out a low whistle of appreciation as 'Renato' took a moment to balance himself and let it sink in, enjoying the sound of recognition from the woman as she held her prize tighter for a moment.
"You've got an aim on you, stringbean. Got some civil-service in your history?"
"Not at all," 'Renato' denied, cocking his gun again and aiming at the last tower. "More of a Mafia myself, bella."
He didn't get to hear her reaction as he shot down the last tower and the stall's owner groaned as he walked over to the wall again, gesturing to the lineup of big prizes. 'Renato' smiled victoriously and pointed at a dopey-looking lizard plush which was shoved into his arms and they were both shooed away from the store before they could take any more of its big-hitters.
"So, 'Mafia'?" Silvestro snorted, obviously not believing him. "What? Are you some big Don?"
"No, no, nothing like that," 'Renato' laughed, "I'm a mere hitman for hire. I swear."
"Sure," she grunted, rolling her eyes. "What's your alias for that? Sullivan?"
"Alias? I have no such thing."
Silvestro made a long noise that spoke of not believing his shit and it made a chuckle bubble deep in his chest as they walked past a group of children who stared slack-jawed at their prizes, obviously thinking them unattainable by any mere mortal. It made the woman soften her gaze, but she was in no mood to part from the spoils of her aggression.
"Do we want to sit down and finish our shaved ice?"
"Yeah, that'd be a good idea," she hummed, and they claimed the same bench as before and settled their trophies before he handed her back her slightly melted raspberry ice. "Yum."
"What's your birthday, bella?" 'Renato' asked, crossing his legs elegantly.
"2nd of May, 1938," Silvestro answered, "And yours, 'Renato'?"
"October 13th, 1940."
"Oh," she blinked, gazing at the man across from her quietly. "You're younger than me."
"Yes, it would appear so, my bella," he smiled, unperturbed and Silvestro bit her tongue in reprimand for jumping on that fact. It was only two years, and so what if she was with a 'younger man'?
...That is, if she were 'with' him at all. Dating did not immediately equal a relationship, after all.
The woman quickly stitched a smile on her face and ate another spoonful of sweetened ice. She swung her foot and scuffed the sole of her shoe on the cobblestone.
"What's your favourite food?" 'Renato' asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. "So I have a better idea for any reservations next time."
The words 'next time' was what made the woman freeze and 'Renato' saw the hope and fear flash through her eyes. It made him smile faintly, the sound of her plastic spoon creaking under her fingers so very telling as to what was going on in her mind.
"...I like pasta a lot," she murmured after a moment and he gloried in the way the apples of her cheeks gained the faintest hue of rouge. "Pretty much any pasta I like, I'm not too fussy." There was another pause, before her lips twitched and she added, "And cheesy, creamy stuff."
"My lady, I will not assist you in ruining your body."
"It's not that bad!" Silvestro groaned, her voice pitching into a near-whine. "My stomach just gets all funky!"
"Which it should not do!" 'Renato' scolded, "If your stomach is hurting that means something is going wrong!"
"But it tastes good!"
"There are many things which taste good which don't cause you pain!"
"Renato!" she whined, and 'Renato' felt his face fight to go up in a grin.
The man got to his feet and chucked out their little paper cups in the bin, returning to her side as Silvestro fixed her purse on her arm and scooped up her large cat plush. They walked deeper into the fair and glanced around, seeing games for children and gambling booths.
"I swear to you, bella, I will find a style of food you will love and make you completely forget about dairy!" 'Renato' began again, reigniting their conversation. "Or, so help me, I will make it myself!"
Silvestro blinked before she smiled a bit and asked, "Is that you offering to cook for me, string bean? How brave."
"I'm a fabulous cook, my lady, I will have you know," 'Renato' proclaimed.
"Oh, let me guess," she laughed, as she fixed her hold on the plush until it was tucked under her arm.. "The World's Greatest Chef? Owner of a chain of excessively exclusive restaurants in all the capitals of the world?"
"Bella, how did you know?!" 'Renato' gasped theatrically, "My word, if I didn't know better I'd think you joined me here tonight in a ploy to reach my fortune!"
"Indeed, you'll go missing mysteriously during our honeymoon in Oceania."
"Oceania, is it?"
"Well, of course," Silvestro grinned, "Didn't you know? No one hears you scream in Australia."
'Renato' raised an eyebrow, "That's a good line that, someone should use it."
"I better get 10%, I need the money."
"What is my fortune? Chopped liver?"
Silvestro let out a rough laugh, the sound like a cackle that got looks from those around them as they walked. 'Renato' smiled, pleased with himself, before he perked up and looked to a challenge booth that tickled his fancy.
"Bella, what about that one?" he hummed, already walking toward it. "This will be fun for sure!"
A brightly coloured booth with the words 'Test Your Strength!' displayed along the top met them with wide smiles, the man standing beside the bell and leaning back smugly as, one after another, young men barely managed to achieve half the bar.
'Renato' waited patiently and sent the woman a smile when she joined him at his side, both of them watching the line dwindle with a string of broken hearts.
"This is one of those hammer games, right?" Silvestro asked, getting a nod.
"Indeed! Very enjoyable little toys," he preened, still holding his lizard plush and looking quite ridiculous decked out in his full suit with it. "Would you like to go first, bella, or shall I?"
Silvestro shrugged before uttering, "I went first at the shooting booth, you go first here."
"Splendid!"
The woman reached and took the oversized, stuffed lizard from the man when it was his turn to step to the stall.
'Renato' paid the toll and took up the hammer. He hummed in the back of his throat as he weighed the tool in his hand, before positioning himself and swung.
The flashing of dirty, yellow lights went off with each tier 'Renato's' strike climbed before the metallic 'clang!' of the bell rung out, the man giving Silvestro a roguish grin over his shoulder. A small group of young boys to the side groaned in dismay and it made her crack a smile.
"Your turn, my bella,"
"How long are you going to risk your hide and keep calling me 'bella'?" Silvestro snorted, handing the man their plushes and her purse.
"Until it's not true," 'Renato' responded lightly. "So, forever."
The military woman rolled her eyes and picked up the hammer from the floor. She made a bit of a noise when the hammer shot up, habit from the Balletto Giovanile Bacigalup making her treat it as one of her tools.
"Whenever you're ready, lady, just hit the plate," the gamesmaster instructed.
Silvestro nodded and fixed her grip to accommodate herself, glancing behind her to make sure no one had chosen to squeeze through a shortcut, and swung. She grit her teeth when she felt the handle bounce from an insecure hold, but ignored it for the stilted 'clank!' of the bell, which showed that her faulty effort was more than enough.
She flinched, however, when the gamesmaster had to hobble over with a stool and climb up. The man strained to reach his full height and work the notch out from under the bell, the little piece stuck after being sent shooting up.
"Sorry," she uttered slowly, but the man only waved her off with a smile.
"I see those years running drills have paid off, bella," 'Renato' hummed, coming up beside the woman as she stepped out of the way of the line. "The machine stood no chance."
"I hope I didn't get it too stuck," she murmured lowly, watching the gamesmaster smack at the knob with the heel of his palm. "I didn't mean to."
"I'm sure it will be fine," he assured, before handing back the woman her items.
Silvestro slipped the strap of her purse back onto her wrist and pulled her plush under her arm, making sure to keep a tight grip on everything as they walked through the rest of the street fair. The two spoke about the inconsequential details of their lives as they ate sweets and confections to substitute the dinner they had walked out on, going from stall to stall and fell into an unspoken competition that left them either huffing or smirking at the other.
By the time they had returned to their original bench, Silvestro had finally wrestled with herself enough to be comfortable in this strange man's company. She snickered loudly as he pouted at her side, the loser to their 'tie-breaker'.
"I assure you, any other night and I would have succeeded," he insisted and Silvestro only laughed louder. "Bella!"
"I believe you, 'Renato'," she snorted, before the clatter of a vendor cleaning up their stall caught her attention. "How late is it?"
'Renato' pulled his sleeve to reveal an expensive watch, reading the time aloud; 9:43pm.
"Wow," Silvestro uttered, "Four hours. That flew by."
"Indeed," 'Renato' agreed, looking all too pleased with himself as he tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes. "Shall we head back to the car and take you home?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "Thank you."
"Completely unnecessary, bella. You deserve nothing less."
The drive back to Silvestro's building was a lot less volatile than the first, 'Renato' seeming less inclined to flirt with the reaper every time they merged lanes. Their plushes were sitting together in the back as 'Renato' rambled softly, their voices having lowered over time until they both spoke at a soft timbre that was dangerous in a moving car.
The woman watched the moon follow them in the rearview mirror and smiled when she heard the man absently utter 'ooh, rabbit' as a streak of white appeared on the side of the road between the bushes. She sighed and shook her head before facing forward in time to see her building appear on the horizon, only a handful of the windows illuminating a honey yellow tone.
"Here we are, bella," 'Renato' hummed, but they remained seated in the idling car for a moment longer. "...I'll walk you to your door."
Silvestro jolted but nodded and moved to get out, her hand missing the handle as the lanky man already opened it for her. She blinked as he smiled down from over the door's arch, looking all too pleased at being able to catch her by surprise before offering his hand to help her shuffle from her seat.
"Thanks," she murmured, standing beside him and tilting her head down to peer as he let their hands linger, before 'Renato' stepped back and fetched the cat plush.
"So, Ms Russ," the man began as they entered the building, still holding her plush for her. "Was this evening satisfactory?"
Silvestro held her tongue for a moment, thinking about the failed dinner and the public confrontation. Then she remembered snickering as 'Renato' lost out to her by one point and how he had huffed in such visceral indignation.
Silvestro smiled a bit, thankful that the man's back was to her on the narrow staircase as she said, "Yeah, it was good."
She blinked when she saw the line of his shoulders square, like he was preening at the positive review. The woman thinned her lips to stop herself from snorting laughter at his behaviour lest it make him shy away from it. Dare she say she found it cute?
The large woman coughed abruptly at the thought before she stepped onto the landing that lead into her hall. She sighed quietly and fished in her purse for her keys, turning them in the lock, the silence that had descended over them stifling.
Silvestro stared at her doorknob for a moment, the keys hanging from the lock, before she turned around and met the black eyes of 'Renato'. He was standing quietly and seemed both hopeful but subdued, his head tilted back slightly to keep her in perspective with their proximity; Silvestro hadn't realised they were this close.
"Uh, so," she grunted out, all eloquence evaporating. "Will I see you again? Or..."
"As soon as you'll allow, my bella," he smiled.
Silvestro bit her tongue as a cautious hope bloomed in the back of her chest and was quick to shove it aside, needing to be present in the moment. She shuffled her foot and clenched her fist, feeling like this...date hadn't ended quite yet.
She blinked when she saw that same look of careful anticipation, her hesitance to leave stoking something in him. An array of options cycled through her head, each edging on awkward or humiliating until the same idea was put on repeat.
Silvestro gritted her teeth and wished she hadn't worn a headband, then her hair would have covered how the tips of her ears began to turn red as she deliberated. She shifted awkwardly and then gave a frustrated growl that made 'Renato's' eyes darken, before she bowed her height and kissed him on the cheek.
Silvestro pulled back quickly and looked down the hall, her face aflame and the desire to hide away in her little apartment near overwhelming. She pressed her lips together and resolutely tried not to think about how soft his cheek was.
"Ah, well, see you soon, then, stringbean," she wheezed, before fumbling with the door and shoving her way inside.
'Renato' stared at the door for maybe a whole minute before he had the lucidity to touch his cheek, a noise dying in the back of his throat. He fought and wrestled with his facial muscles, but couldn't resist the smile that pulled at his lips.
The man grinned and had a skip in his step all the way back to his car, which he bypassed and twirled the keys on his finger. He hummed to himself and replayed the moment, giddier than he'd care to admit.
The man walked a block further and turned into an alley, the cobblestone uneven under his feet. He flushed happily as his mind recreated the sensation of that soft peck, before he turned on his heel and shot the hitman who had been following him since the dinner at the Occhi Di Perle.
The assassin, who had been disguised as a waiter at the Perle, crumbled like a puppet with cut strings. Blood pooled around the body and stained the cracks between the old cobblestone, thirsty mineral soaking it up like so many had before.
Reborn, the World's Greatest Hitman, smiled and touched his cheek with his hand again, smoking gun in the other. He hadn't felt this good in a long time.