UPDATE 08/02/2021: Got a bit drunk. Accidentally uploaded this chapter again. Apologies.


[Chapter Seven]

"Get rid of the necklace; that's all I gotta say." Mabel sighed, hesitating her next words. "And, as much as I hate to say this, maybe Ion too…"

"What?!" Roman half-shouted. "You were the one going on about 'his or whosever home' yesterday!"

"Not—NOT like 'throw him away'! That's not what I meant! Even then, that was before I found out he's in possession of questionably-obtained diamonds!"

Roman snorted, folding his arms. "Real rich coming from you."

Mabel let out a silent gasp, eyes widening. "What the HELL does that mean?! How dare you bring—!"

"Oh, come on. Everyone in our circle knows you're getting some smuggled in from Vac—"

"Kids, kids!" Junior placed himself in-between the siblings without missing a beat. He looked to Roman, then Mabel, gesturing the both of them to calm down or get thrown the fuck out. "Let's not tear at each other's throat here. Yeah? The last thing I need right now is to get stuck in a new sibling feud."

The brother and sister scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. We got it," they responded at the same time.

With a groan, Junior shook his head. "Good. Now back to the point: the fuck are we gonna do about this?" Junior momentarily stopped, pointing at Roman. "Just so you know, he called me thinking about keeping the kid."

"Man, you're such a—"

"What?!" Mabel screamed.

"Well, I was going to tell you if you hadn't freaked out!" His sister looked ready to explode, so Roman quickly continued. "Plus, it's just a damn thought. I'm not exactly fitto raise a kid. And since you're not particularly eager for Ion to be around—"

"DON'T paint me as the bad guy here, you walking cone of sherbet!"

"—I gotta find someone else that's willing."

"Not it." The siblings turn their deadpan faces to Junior. "Just throwing out there. Sounds like more headache and an extra contingency to draw." Junior rubbed his face and walked to the bar as Mabel and Roman continued to bicker.

"I can't see how'd you just call it a 'headache."

"I don't know what you're talking about, M. Sure seems more pressing than that," Roman, laced with extra sarcasm, echoed his sister.

"Right, right…" she broke out a disdained grin.

"And your solution to this problem was… what? Throw one of the few possible leads to his parents into the Ester?"

"And find Ion a good home after, yeah."

Roman scoffed, folding his arms and looking away. "You sure didn't like it when I apparently implied that yesterday."

"I TOLD you that's—" Mabel growled. "Roman, if fratricide was legal, I would've strangled you already." Mabel reached for Roman's throat but stopped midway. "Stop acting like you for a second and realize that I don't like this, either!"

The sound of glass against wood rang in between the argument. They turned to Junior, now behind the bar. He began pouring liquor into each glasses atop. "Why don't you two sit down for a sec?"

Roman turned to his sister and she was already walking away from him. He reluctantly followed with a deep sigh, sitting on the stool right next to Mabel. She snatched a glass and knocked it back in a swift motion, afterward gesturing to Junior to refill hers. The burly man could only sigh. And just like that, as they took their drinks, the silence returned.

"So…" like it always has been since forever when the sibling butt heads, Junior broke the quiet to try get them talking. "Anybody got any plans?"

"I'm sticking to mine," said Mabel, swirling her drink.

Taking a sip, Roman scoffed. "I don't suppose you have a place in mind?"

"I do, actually." She took another gulp. "An acquaintance down south. Runs a pretty good foster home, no government involvement at all."

"Ain't it that place you were thinking of adopting from before you got Velvet?" asked Junior, prompting a nod from Mabel.

"You sure they're not just running a child-trafficking operation?"

Mabel glared at her brother. "They're good people, Roman. I'm surprised they haven't adopted the kids themselves."

"What if… I don't know. We hide the necklace? Somewhere no one else outside this room would know." Junior suggested.

Mabel sighed, shaking her head. "Still too risky. It's scary how far some people will go for diamonds."

"Well, that's a lot coming from you, isn't it?"

The three laughed at Junior's jab, silence loudly returning afterward. Nothing but the clinks of ice against glass tucked the room. It seemed that uneasy quiet, at least for the last two days, was the norm in any conversation Roman's in. A little chuckle brought his attention.

"Why, Roman?" asked Mabel, staring into her drink. "I don't really get it, but you really want to keep this kid, huh?"

He blinked, letting his answer linger. "No… Not really. It's just… a thought."

"And, what, you'll have all of us make the same mistake as before?" Roman tightened his grip around the glass. "Take him under your wing? 'Guide' him?"

"Mabel…" Junior warned.

"Another Isaiah, Roman? Before we know it he'll have people at the bottom of the strait."

Junior slammed his fist. "Mabel!"

"No, no… she's right," said Roman, stopping his friend. He finished his drink with a sigh. Roman couldn't even meet his sister's eyes. "What happened to Isaiah was a fuckup. I fucked up. Thought I took care of him, didn't know any better, and cut him loose." Roman poured himself another drink. After swirling the liquid around, dragging to continue, he turned to Mabel and smiled. "I don't know what it is that pulls me towards troubled brats like him."

"I wonder what…"

Roman raised a palm, pursing his lips at Mabel. "Especially with Ion. I don't know why, it's just…" he laughed, running a hand through his hair. "It's weird really. Doesn't make a lick of sense. But, I feel that if things go right for Ion, then everything else is gonna be a-okay."

Roman could practically feel the other two looking as if he grew a second head; or if he had rambled on like a sanatorium patient; or his hair becoming neon. It was one of those.

He sighed. "I told you, it's ridic—" Roman stopped when Mabel extended her glass towards him. She smiled, as if saying that she understood nothing that came out of his mouth since the last minute, but she understood.

"To your idiocy. Never change."

Roman looked over to Junior, the man silently chuckling. "To your… idiocy. Apparently."

The redhead looked to the other two and smiled. He raised his own glass and finished: "To me being a moron."

They didn't stay that much longer afterwards. Finishing the drink, the trio left and made their way back to the lobby. Another silent appeared as they walked. But unlike before, quite contrary to the uneasy, awkward air, this one just gave off the aura of "What the hell." They even managed another random chuckle.

"You sure you're okay to drive?" asked Junior, the hotel's main door in sight.

Mabel turned her head and gave him an amused smirk. "I've got more tolerance than the two of you combined!"

"Yes. As we all know, being a functional alcoholic is one of your life skills." Roman's snark got him an elbow to the ribs.

"Mabel!" A leg-height blur almost made her topple to the side. Now stuck to her leg was Miltia, grinning ear to ear at her. "You guys done with your grown-up talk yet?"

Mabel chuckled, ruffling the girl's hair. "Yeah, we just finished." She looked to the other two kids. " What have you three been up to?"

"Oh, ya know—general misdemeanor."

The woman gave Junior a brief glance before cocking an eyebrow at Miltia. "Do you know what that means?"

"Not at all."

"I guessed as much…"

Roman smiled at the interaction. Melanie finally caught up, along with the employees that were supposed to watch over them, but Junior simply nodded and waved them off, prompting their departure.

"Heio!" As the twins began chatting with Mabel and Junior stepping aside for a call, Roman was somewhat startled with the sudden appearance of Ion to his left—the boy nibbling on hash brown and scrambled eggs?

"Hey there, kid." Roman furrowed a brow. "I thought you were full?"

"Is a snack." Nom.

"Snack?"

Nom. "Mhm."

"Really?"

He nodded. Nom.

Roman crouched. "Three eggs and four hash browns?"

The boy tilted his head at the plate. "Ye."

"So this here's Ion, huh?" They both turned at the inquiry, the person who asked approaching. Mabel had changed her tone: softer, more calm—far cry then anything earlier. She smiled at Ion, placing both hands on her knees. "How are you, little guy? I'm Mabel."

Nom. Yes, Roman swore Ion said—said—the word "nom" when he nibbled on his food. The boy looked to him as if asking for help, prompting the man to nod his head towards Mabel. "This here's my sister I told you about yesterday."

Ion seemingly calmed at the explanation. He swallowed his mouth, passing the plate to his left hand. Shyly, he muttered: "Heio…"

"Mabel!" Miltia hopped just next to Mabel. "This is Yon!"

"Ion."

"Gee, I know. Just give me some time."

"I've heard and met," commented Mabel with a smile. "What have the three of you been up to since yesterday?"

"Oh, you know—" Miltia shuffled on her feet, giving Mabel a cheeky smile— "kids stuff?"

Amused, her smile stretched to a smirk. "Oh?"

"And general anarchy."

"Yeah, that too," Miltia confirmed her sister's comment.

"You two even know what that word means?" asked Roman. Junior seemingly wandering the same question behind him.

Miltia and Melanie looked to the other before shaking their heads, getting the two men to snort and Mabel to chuckle. "Well, just be careful, Ion. These two can rub wrong on you."

"Hey!" the twins protested in sync.

Ion looked—well, one should be able to guess at this point really. Roman most certainly has the boy figured out already, at least; and he was quite surprised and proud of that. Ion nodded, seeming to not fully comprehend what the woman had meant, and therefore he simply nodded, quietly continuing with his food.

"Well…" Mabel straightened her clothes, having a look at the clock. "I suppose I gotta go for now."

Both of the girls voiced their disappointment. "Already?" asked Melanie.

"Aw… don't be like that," cooed Mabel. "I'm just really busy right now. On the bright side, you girls can probably meet Velvet again soon!"

"Really?" asked Miltia.

"Yep! Maybe…" Mabel murmured the last part, making sure that the twins didn't hear her as she patted their heads. The woman faced her brother again with a frown, morphing to a sad smile when she briefly glanced down at Ion. Mabel turned around, bidding Miltia and Melanie farewell over her shoulder; when the girls were out of earshot, and Ion at Roman's tow though knowing no better, she glared at the two men before sighing. "Roman, I trust you. You know that. But just… promise me that you'll think about what I said, okay?"

Roman, as exasperated as Mabel at this point, felt the need to be more agreeable. "Yeah. I will, I will." He grabbed his sister into a hug when she approached him. "Kiss little Velvet for me."

"You know you can come over and meet her once you calm things down with Duncan, right?"

"Just kiss my niece for me, will ya?"

The group saw Mabel out and waved her goodbye as she drove away—and as quickly after, Roman could feel a pair of questioning eyes looked to him.

"What're you thinking now?" asked Junior.

"Everyone's been asking me that exact question, rephrased, every day, for the last two days. What's up with that?"

"Well, it ain't any of us but you—"

"Yap, yap, yap. I get it." In thought of such persistent questions, Roman hummed. He looked over his shoulder as the kids were courted back inside by the employees. The man noticedsomething and shrugged at his friend. "Shopping… gotta be shopping."

(-S.o.T-)

Ruda was the capital city of Kalisia; one out of many counties of Vale's eastern coast. The metropolis stood as one of the biggest cities in the kingdom, only behind the capital Fortuna and quite on par with Genneves to the south, and Roosendaal of the north. Like many major cities of a nation, it is filled with many institutions of the government, businesses, and so on. But for now, one is the focus: the main branch of Bancorp Trust Bank. Especially the customers in it.

From the everyday blue collars to the VIP clients, and out of the bunch, two individual sticks out. Not in terms of looks or appearance; for those present, these suited individuals just felt… off. One, even though seasoned in their line of work, remained confused as to why such protocol-defying sets of strange and very specific orders were given. Her partner simply shrugged, commenting that it was direct orders from the top as they watched the bank manager, accompanied by a multitude of guards, lock deposit box number four-four-seven.

(-S.o.T-)

Roman might've Ion done and figured out by now—at least by a margin, maybe—but for some reason, despite such obvious changes as they were literally in front of him for a while, he failed to notice Ion's change of clothes since last night, and therefore, the fact that Junior also didn't mention that he gave Ion a shower yesterday evening.

Someone's incompetence might be at blame here—Gods know who—and there's only a very slight chance that it's Roman's own. It's only been a day, but it felt like months!

Happened to be quite practical, too, since a lot of the twins' old clothes—the tomboys they always are—fit Ion size wise. Nevertheless, the moment Roman took notice at how… fashionably disastrous Ion looked, Roman dropped the boy's original wear and decided to dedicate the rest of the afternoon-till-and-or-maybe-evening to fix the wardrobe disaster.

Come on, Junior! Roman mentally taunted. The man wasn't even trying when the twins were around Ion's age! It was even more ironic considering he was the one that taught Roman how to dress properly when they were young.

Junior's inflamed fashion sense aside, a more pressing matter required Roman's complete attention at the moment: why the hell can't he find anything light blue that remotely goes with Ion's tone?

"Stay still for a second, buddy." The boy only whined at him, stepping away from the pair of shorts held by Roman.

Some might argue that they were just kids' clothes; some people are wrong. Some question him putting a Rabaine belt on a Bior; some people are wrong.

Ion pouted at the man, letting out a barely audible whine-growl. "No, no…!" he protested, making a cross with his arms to exaggerate.

"You don't want a light blue?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Blacks and blues, then?"

He placed a finger on his chin, deep in thought, before happily nodding with a hum.

Roman sighed, handing back the brighter clothes he had to the clerk before turning back to Ion. "We gotta fix this palette choice of yours. Bring out the more vibrant."

Ion looked down, thinking. "No know what mean." Clearly he didn't know what Roman meant, prompting a chuckle from the man

"Well, we have a lot…" He stopped himself with a silent sigh. "We'll… have time for that, I suppose." Turning back to the clerks, Roman handed the clothes which had Ion's least refusal—they disappeared, leaving the duo alone. "Anyway, how about this one?"

Roman has never seen a more intense, concentrated stare of pure hatred in the eyes of a two-year-old before—maybe any kid in general. Said indigo eyes then proceed to direct such ire to Roman who, although with an amused smirk, raise his hand in defeat.

"Enough shopping for a day. Alright, alright…"

Indeed. It certainly didn't feel that long for Roman, but they are well into the afternoon at this point—a good two hours into the session, maybe—and his tiny little companion and said tiny little companion's little energy must be taken into account here. Though if anything, Ion was just annoyed after the tenth shop and gods know how many outfits.

Okay. Roman saw the problem now. One-hundred percent his fault. Had a bit of lapse there and went completely over the top.

He sat down on the near pouffe—looking over to Ion, he smiled. The boy might've protested about everything taking too long, but that didn't stop him from starting to look around the other displays; he seemed particularly interested in a few fur coats that were definitely not his size.

Roman didn't mean to fall back into his thoughts again. But, seeing as Ion was pretty occupied with himself and that the clerk hadn't returned with the Belmein he asked, Roman allowed his thoughts to blissfully drift for a while with a sigh. To contemplate. To breathe in the scent of brand new leather wallets. The last few days have been quite chaotic after all, so why not enjoy the moment as it's here.

The quiet, calming moment. Nothing's gonna ruin this from him, no sir.

Nada.

Yep…

This is nice.

Quite nice…

Yep...

And just like that, it's gone! He had tranquility for a whopping forty seconds: a new, fantastic, personal records! The man groaned when the sweet empty thoughts were rudely interrupted by himself. Gods forbid Mabel finds out about him admitting this without much resistance, but there's certainly substance to her words earlier.

Who does she think she is coming up with her sensible, rational views?! Nope. That didn't help him feel better. Roman sighed, again, and a frown more so crashed his lips than grace them.

What does he know about raising a kid? Nothing but the basics. Nothing that seemed logical when a quick thought's given. And from what Roman could gather by Mabel's various stories about Velvet, it is most definitely more than just feeding and watching. Taking care of Isaiah was probably the closest thing he's ever done to properly raising a kid. That itself isn't saying much either; giving him pocket money once in a while, setting up a proper place for him to live in, things that you'd do to help someone get back on their feet than a proper adoption, really. Even hooked the boy up with a Royal Marine friend Roman knew since Isaiah wanted training.

Roman and everyone else reckoned the then nine-year-old boy who's been a street urchin—cat—for the last two years was independent enough that all he needs is some proper guiding and hands off, watchful eyes. Though everyone involved was shown that such an approach was a mistake.

First time Roman ever killed someone was when he was 19 on his first year aboard the Courageous—wasn't his last, he didn't like it, but it had to be done. Isaiah's first, second, third, and fourth body he achieved at the ripe old age of 11; though, unlike Roman, and much to the horror of those in the know, the boy enjoyed what he did, believed it had to be done, and that there are still a few people who needed to be taken care of.

That was a year ago, yet Roman still had shivers every time he thought of the horrible memory of warehouse floors flooded with crimson and disemboweled bodies hung upside down. It was less about the gory scene and more the disturbingly proud, blood-covered perpetrator.

And so, with such rollercoaster thoughts reminding himself of his track record, Roman returned to his point: can he raise a kid? Is it even fair for Ion? The man thought that he'll be able to get less of a headache today, but thanks to no one but himself, he's gotten a migraine.

Okay. Roman saw the problem now. One-hundred percent his fault. Had a bit of lapse there and went completely over the top.

"Loma! Loma!" Roman was thankful that the cheery voice exclaimed out to him, and he stifled a chuckle at the sight once turning around. "Look!"

Seemed that Ion was indeed interested in one of the fur coats, but the boy barely fit the article. No, that's not correctly phrasing it: four of the boy could probably almost fit. Nevertheless even with the majority of the coat dragging behind him, Ion proudly raised both arms up—floppy sleeves and all. The kid should try modeling

Roman held back some decency and only let out a quick giggle. "Give it a couple of years and your hands might be halfway out the sleeves."

Ion tilted his head. "No good?"

"Too big."

Roman helped Ion out of what is practically a sleeping bag for the boy just as one of the employees returned with the little canine's new clothes. The man took the two bags—adding to the total of five—and flashed a smile at the clerk.

"We gotta get you one somewhere else, later," said Roman with a hint of giggling still present. "It's the middle of the year and last season was not a good one for winter clothing."

The boy hummed before nodding, this time, somehow, fully understanding what Roman meant. Or maybe he's just nodding along… maybe…

"Now come on!" Roman scooped the boy up onto his free arm, causing the boy to laugh in joy. "A deal's a deal; let's get you some tacos!"

"Tacos!" Ion repeated, again and again, turning into whispers as they exited the gallery.

Decisions, decisions… Roman looked to the bags of clothing, then to Ion, and the biggest, dumbest smile showed up on his face. There's a good few weeks worth of clothes here, decisions'll be for later.


A/N: Can't say that I'm back. Figured that it's less disappointing for anyone involved to make no promises. In fact, I surprised even myself that I managed to get this out. Also, I've done some cleaning and alterations; most noteworthy are the check-up scene in the previous chapter, and Roman and Roy's elevator interaction in chapter 4, and the ending of said chapter.

Stay inside, stay alive, and 'till next time, stay classy