Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - Damian Desmond

Damian Desmond fixed his collar for the third time that day, still staring at the Stella Star pinned to his chest through the window’s reflection. It caught the morning light just enough for it to glitter. Of course it was shiny, it was supposed to be. To think that he got one from surviving a bomb attack was rather shocking. But hey, a stella either way.

His dark hair moved as quickly as his gaze when Headmaster Henry Henderson himself started clapping his hands. The old man touched his moustache before saying…

“Class, we have two new students joining Eden Academy today. Please welcome them and let’s hear their eleganto introductions.”

Damian sighed. 

What? Transfer students? At this time of year? 

The door slid open.

The girl had short violet hair that framed her face in soft waves and soft emerald eyes. The boy beside her had blonde hair, messy like he got into a fight before he came in, and big brown eyes full of stupidity.

“I’m Reze, and I’m adopted!” she said, smiling like a fool.

Damian blinked.

She’s just… saying it? Out loud? Proudly?

The boy stepped forward.

“Oh! I’m Denji, and I’m adopted too!” he shouted, both hands waving like he was proud of it.

Damian slowly turned toward the ceiling, as if drywalls could explain what was happening.

But suddenly, his classmate stood up, short pink hair bouncing. “I’m Anya Forger, I’M ADOPTED TOO!!”

Damian choked on his own breath, “What?! Since when?!”

Becky whispered, “But Anya… you’re not adopted.” Her brown hair with two pigtails waving as she moved closer to her best friend’s ear.

Anya froze, then smiled and let out a nervous laugh.

“Oops! I mean, I was adopted by my step-mom! But Anya is 100% blood related to Anya’s papa!”

The class nodded in unison. Damian didn’t even want to know anymore. That girl was weird. So weird. Whatever, he didn't have time to waste on shrimps like her. He needed to focus and score another star. He needed to become an Imperial Scholar like his brother did. Otherwise... His father won't pay attention to him at all.

Reze sat down next to Anya and Becky, settling down  into the chair like she’d already claimed them. 

“Hi! We’re friends now,” Reze declared, smiling with those bright emerald eyes.

Anya’s jaw dropped. Both of them had emerald eyes, glistening to light green in the morning light. “Reze, I want to meet your mom!”

Damian stood up around so fast his chair screeched. “What the hell?!”

Anya shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? Second son didn’t want me to visit his house, so I’ll visit Reze’s house instead.”

Damian felt his brain snap in half. “What kind of completely insane theory is THAT?!”

Before he could continue having his meltdown, Denji plopped into the seat beside him, elbows hitting the desk.

“It’s okay,” Denji said, as if comforting him. “Your mom didn’t let you huh? My mom is kinda scary sometimes.”

“How scary?” Anya asked, leaning so close she was practically trying to read Denji’s soul through his brown eyes.

“Scary,” Denji said simply. “Kind, but… scary. My brother Aki is perfect so he worships her, but my sister Power. Well, she had a different opinion about mom.”

Anya gasped like she’d discovered a national secret. “HUH?! I also need to see Denji’s mom!”

“What the hell, Forger?!” He shouted, “What is it with you and meeting other people’s family?”

Anya scooted closer to Damian, moving like a tiny pink-haired spy or something dramatic. She leaned in until her forehead almost touched his shoulder.

“You know…” she whispered, eyes darting toward Denji and Reze, “I think Denji’s mom might be a lot like your mom. And Reze’s mom is kinda like mine.”

Damian blinked. “Huh? Why would you think that?”

Anya stared straight ahead, hands folded like she was carrying top-secret government intel. “I just have… intuation.”

Damian frowned. “You mean intuition.”

“Yeah. That.” Anya nodded seriously. 

Damian sighed as Anya shuffled back to her seat, still glancing over her shoulder. She was already sitting so close to Reze, cheeks almost touching. Now both girls started giggling.

“I don’t get it,” Damian muttered, slumping in his chair. “Why would my mom be similar to Denji’s? She’s just… rarely around. But when she is, she’s really nice to me.”

“Kinda like mine,” Denji said casually, swinging his legs under the desk. “Even when she’s super busy, she brings me anything I want. She smiles at everyone. And when she hugs me, I feel really happy.”

Damian nodded slowly. “Okay… that does sound like my mom.”

Denji then whispered to Damian, almost like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “But somehow, people I get close to keep… going missing.”

The second son’s head whipped around so fast his neck almost snapped. “Stay away from me!!!”

Suddenly, from the back row, Emile Elman and Ewen Egeburg both jumped to their feet and shouted in perfect unison, “Yes! Stay away from Damian-sama, you creep!”

Denji twisted in his seat and gave them the most exhausted look imaginable. “Why are you guys calling him that? What is he, some medieval lord?”

“Damian-sama is the son of—”

“Shut up, all of you!” Damian snapped, dragging a hand down his face. “Class is starting!”

The door slid open and their math teacher swept in. Her glasses glinted in the light like she could calculate the square root of hell. Without greeting them, she filled the board with formulas: limits, derivatives, multi-variable equations, simple stuff. Damian thought it was easy. Probably to adjust with the newcomers

Denji stared at the board and sighed. “…Huh? I only know 1+1=2.”

Damian slammed his notebook. “How did you even get enrolled here?!”

Denji brightened immediately. “Oh! My dog Pochita saved the headmaster once and my mom had connections with Eden’s founding father!”

“HUH?!” the entire row turned toward him.

Denji shrugged, completely unfazed. “I got rejected a bunch of times though, just like my sister, Power. But my brother Aki is an Imperial Scholar even though he’s only in middle school and he has sooo many Stella. So with his record, plus Pochita, plus my mom’s influence… they kinda gave up and let me in.”

Damian slumped back in his chair, defeated. “Your brother is an Imperial Scholar and you only know basic equations? YOU ARE ADOPTED.”

The man sighed as he scanned the room for Reze. That newcomer couldn’t possibly get into Eden academy with some cheap tricks too right? Not like Denji. No way a school like Eden would fail to uphold standards twice.

Reze sat perfectly straight, eyes focused, pen moving at a frightening speed. For a moment, Damian relaxed. She looked smarter than him, maybe she actually—

Then he saw her paper.

Every answer was wrong. Cosmically wrong. Like she just put a giant bomb on the paper.

“Reze!” Damian blurted. “How did you get enrolled here?!”

Reze looked up with the brightest smile. “Oh! My mom is dating three powerful women in this school!”

Damian froze.

Becky nearly choked on her own breath. “Reze-chan! You can’t just SAY that!”

Reze blinked innocently. “Eh? But it’s true.”

Damian put his head in his hands. First the Forger kid and now them? What happened to standards? To legacy? To exclusivity?

Anya let out the heaviest sigh a six-year-old could possibly produce and tugged at Damian’s uniform sleeve. “Just write down the answer so I can copy it. Or at least think really loudly about it.”

Damian jerked his arm back. “I’m not letting you copy my answers! Copy Reze’s! She finished hers already.”

Anya slumped over her desk. “But hers are all wrong…”

Damian threw his hands up, exasperated. “If you know they’re wrong, then help the poor girl and do it yourself!”

He clicked his tongue sharply, turning his attention back to his worksheet. Meanwhile, Anya stared at her blank page, her soul leaving her body.

As Damian wrote down all the answers, he found Denji already peeking.

“Denji! Answer it yourself!” Damian hid his papers with his hands.

“Man, this is too complicated for me,” Denji sighed and then gave Damian the sneakiest grin.  “What if I let you guys visit my home? Meet Pochita! Then maybe we can study together afterwards!”

“Just ask your brother! He’s an Imperial Scholar!” Damian sighed.

“But he’s busy studying for himself, said he needed to beat some genius classmate of his,” Denji looked up to the ceiling as if recalling the memory, “What was his name again? Hmm… Demterius Desmond?”

“That’s my brother,” Damian said quietly, staring at Denji as if he’d just recalled some traumatizing memory.

Denji blinked. “Huh? Your brother is so cold and nasty. Why are you so nice?”

Damian blushed. “I’M NOT NICE!”

The boy just smiled and kept copying his answer.

“How did you even know my brother is cold and nasty? Huh? You met him already?”

“Yeah.” Denji didn’t even look up. “He used to hang around my brother a lot. They studied together in his room.”

Damian blinked. “They… did?”

“Mhm.” Denji flipped his pencil around like he was stirring pasta. “But ever since my brother became an Imperial Scholar, your brother barely visited anymore. It was like they were fighting a cold war. My brother didn’t wanna lose either, so they just kept racking up Stella Stars like two idiots.”

“…So my brother had a secret rival I didn’t even know about?!”

Denji nodded, still copying Damian’s formula with absolute confidence. “I wish my brother would keep it a secret from me. The dude just won’t stop complaining.”

Damian looked like he needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down. He rarely met his own brother, father or mother. But this idiot got to?!

“I’m going to your house Denji.” Damian stared at the boy seriously.

“ANYA IS COMING TOO!”

“Eh, so fun!” Reze joined in, “Can I come?”

“What is wrong with you guys?” Becky sighed, “I’m just gonna go shopping. It’s better than visiting Denji’s house.”

“What? My house is fun.”

Denji’s house was huge. Not big—huge in the way castles in paintings were painted. The driveway alone was the size of Eden’s entire dormitory, and the rose garden stretched across, all painted in red. Damian knew because he could see white petals near the pollen, the owner had asked someone to paint it all red.

What the hell.

They arrived in a black vintage limousine—one of those rare, limited-edition models Becky’s father had famously lost at a charity gala to a mysterious bidder. The moment Anya jumped out, she bolted across the rose garden like a tiny feral creature.

“DENJIIIII! WHERE POCHITA?! I WANNA MEET YOUR DOG! I HAVE DOG TOO! HIS NAME BOND!”

Denji and Reze had arrived much earlier because the man who drove him and Reze was not a normal chauffeur. No. Damian knew the man. He was a retired racing champion who apparently decided that working for Denji’s family was his new calling in life.

Damian still recalled how fast the red sports car left them back at school.

Reze, of course, let out her head half out the window laughing. “FASTER DENJI! ASK HIM TO GO FASTER!!”

Meanwhile, Denji was laughing and shouting, “DID YOU HEAR REZE? FASTER OLD MAN!”

So of course when they arrived at his house another chaos had unfolded.

Reze had climbed a tree.

Not a small tree. A massive one. And she was perched on a high branch. Reze just giggled, swinging her legs like she was on a playground. The suited up butlers watching from afar quietly placed bets on whether Denji would catch her or die trying.

Suddenly—a helicopter descended out of nowhere and swept Reze off the ground like some kind of high-speed abduction.

The sheer pressure from the wind turned the rose garden into chaos. Petals exploded into the air, scattering in a storm of red and white that painted the entire place like it was a freaking apocalypse.

Damian was trapped in the middle of it, mouth opening and closing as rose petals kept flying straight into him.

Meanwhile, Anya was already sprinting in circles, screaming at full volume, “WAAAAAAA!! DENJI’S MOM PICKED HER UUUUUP!!!”

“HUH?!” Damian shouted back, petals smacking him again.

Denji cupped his hands and yelled toward the helicopter, “REEEEZE!! YOU OKAY?!”

The helicopter rose higher, showering the yard with more petals until half of the petals were missing. Then it flew away and never returned.

They just stood there blank faced as Reze was abducted by who Anya just accused as Denji’s mom. Sure, the boy had mentioned that anyone close to him just disappeared. But this was ONE DAY. No. Less than one day since he met Reze. They just went home together and played.

No way his mother just… kidnapped her for hanging out with her kid!

“Denji! We have to hurry!” Anya shouted, “Reze is in danger! We have to call my parents!”

Anya’s parents arrived way too fast.

Damian had met her mother, Yor Forger, apparently she and his own mother were besties. One of the social climbers after the Desmond name probably, whatever. Today, her dark hair fluttered wildly as she rolled down the car window, still wearing her city civil-servant uniform from work as the small family car entered the massive parking lot Denji’s family owned. Very out of place, especially since Loid Forger decided to park just beside a silver Aston Martin DB5.

Their car looked hilariously out of place among the luxury cars and limousines. The Forger’s slightly dented back bumper and faded green paint did not help their case either. It was the kind of reliable car that smelled like poverty.

The moment it stopped, Loid Forger stepped out, his blonde hair met the wind and got even messier when Anya tackled him in a tight hug.

“Papa!! PLEASE SAVE REZE! A criminal—no, DENJI’S MOM kidnapped her!!”

Loid blinked, one hand still on the car door, the other patting his daughter’s back. 

“Anya, slow down.” He gently rested a hand on her head. “What happened?”

Yor hurried over too, kneeling to Anya’s height and wrapping her arms around her. “Anya-san, no mother would kidnap their son’s friend, please calm down.”

“My mom would actually,” Denji offered from the side, raising his hand like he was volunteering in class. “Not that I’ve ever seen her kidnap someone in person until today.”

Damian covered his face. This day just kept getting worse.

“You know what? I’m leaving!” Damian said, “I will not be the next person getting kidnapped! The bus incident is enough for me!”

“You’re right,” Anya said, hands on her hips, still snuggling with her parents. “You’re waaay too cowardly for this kind of thing. Please go home safely, second son!”

Damian’s eye twitched so hard it looked like it might fall off. “I’m not a coward!” he yelled, waving his hands in protest, “I AM WISE.”

“Damian is right Anya,” Loid patted her head and said, “Let’s leave this case to the police. I’ll drive you both home.”

“But—” Anya almost protested, but quickly changed her tone when she saw her father, like she had a revelation or something and said, “Okay! Anya wants peanuts!”

“You changed your mind that fast?!” Damian opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Hey! Can Pochita meet your dog Bond?” Denji waved his hands, his small orange dog already in his hand.

“Of course!” Anya smiled.

Loid unlocked the back door, and the kids shuffled in. Denji slid in first since Pochita already hopped in ahead of everyone else—then Anya plopped into the middle seat, and Damian got in last.

The small family car was warm, a bit stiff since the backseat didn’t have a proper cushioning, and smelled faintly of fresh laundry. When Loid started the engine, the dashboard lights glowed softly.

Pochita had already made himself at home, curling up in Denji’s lap with his tail wagging so hard, Damian could hear it from his seat. The tiny dog stared up at him with a cute smile. Not that Damian thought it was cute. Absolutely not. But… statistically, most kids would.

“Second Son should play at my house too!” Anya smiled at Damian.

Yor’s voice could be heard from the passenger seat, “I’ll ask your mother to pick you up when the time comes.”

Something about that made Damian pause.

Maybe if he visited Anya’s home, there’d be a slight chance—just a very slight chance—he could see his mother again. It had been so long since they’d properly spent time together that he struggled to remember what her smile even looked like. She left so quickly after the bus incident… and he hadn’t seen her at all afterwards.

Damian looked at the car window and nodded quietly. In the faint reflection, Pochita was curled against Denji’s school uniform, snoring softly as the car moved along the quiet street.

When they arrived at Anya’s place, the contrast hit him immediately. Denji’s home was large enough to host a freaking marathon. But the Forgers lived in a modest apartment building—small, warm, and tucked between other units. Several families probably shared the floors. It felt almost like a dormitory.

“Let’s go Pochita!” Denji shouted excitedly, “We’re gonna meet your new friend!”

Damian just stepped out of the car when a sudden gust of wind blasted through the parking lot. A blur shot past him so fast it rattled his hair. In the same instant, Denji let out a yelp and Pochita barked.

Damian turned just in time to see someone snatching Denji and Pochita straight off the pavement.

“What—?!” He stumbled backward, heart jumping.

Damian had never seen someone move that fast before. One blink—maybe half a blink—and Denji and Pochita were no longer beside the car. They were tucked under the arm of a silver-haired woman sprinting across the pavement.

Her hair looked like a dirty snowstorm, so fast! The black eyepatch only made her even scarier. If someone could move that fast with only one functioning eye, then clearly Damian should not take disabled people lightly.

Before Damian could even take another breath, the kidnapper launched herself onto a tree.

A full-grown woman. Carrying a child and a small dog. In one arm.

Up a freaking tree.

“Are you kidding me?” Damian shouted, because apparently that was all his vocabulary could manage at the moment.

The stranger jumped again—branch to branch, like a snow monkey. Great. This was the second kidnap attempt today. On his watch. If there was a third, statistically speaking, it should be him or Anya. Possibly him. Wonderful.

But instead of panicking or calling the authorities like normal adults, Yor simply ran after the woman.

Even in a skirt and her civil-service cardigan, Yor reached the tree, grabbed the attacker’s wrist mid-air, and ripped her off the branch. Yor’s grip was so strong it literally broke the tree branch with it. The four of them came crashing down but suddenly—

“Yor-san!” Loid arrived a split second later, somehow catching his wife, the silver-haired woman, Denji, and Pochita all in his arms like some ridiculous four-person bridal rescue gone wrong.

He managed two seconds of peaceful balance before fate reminded him the kidnapper was petty.

SPLASH!

Damian could see a carton of chocolate milk from the public trash can exploded across Loid’s face.

The attacker had snatched Denji back, leaving Pochita squirming in Loid’s arm, all while upturning the milk carton on Loid’s face. She was already mid-leap again, this time throwing in strawberry milk.

Loid turned his head too late. Another color of milk dripped down his cheek, splattering onto his neat collar. His expression said he needed a shower, a spa day, and probably a therapist. And considering the therapist was him, that raised several logistical problems.

Yor was already leaving her very annoyed husband, kicking upward. Her heel caught the silver-haired woman in the jaw—

—but the woman caught Yor’s heel in one hand, twisted, and would’ve snapped Yor’s ankle if she hadn’t pivoted. What?! Yor was using her other foot to strike the attacker square in the stomach. Somehow Anya’s mother ended up horizontally suspended, a full sideways plank in the air, held up only by force and sheer determination to save Denji from being kidnapped.

“What is this?!” Damian demanded, turning to Anya. “Your mom is so strong!”

“My mom is the strongest!” Anya smiled with the pride of someone showing off a pet dragon to a dragon atheist. “She could take down an entire mob—”

CLANK!

Three blades appeared. The silver-haired woman drew them from her back pocket and slashed all three in a fast motion with ONE HAND. Yor twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike, and the swords clanged against…

One; Yor’s lipstick case flying in the air.

Two; Her wedding ring.

Three; HER TEETH?!

Yor was gripping one of the swords with her teeth?!

Anya’s mother rolled away with the sword, breathing hard.

Damian felt sweat slide coldly down his neck.

Now the two women was face to face as Yor was using one sword while the woman used two swords with her hand, still holding Denji with her other hand.

Yor had to win and save the boy. Damian couldn’t bear seeing the boy gone. Denji still hadn’t learned basic algebra. He could barely multiply. No, the fool wasn’t ready for midterms, Damian had to teach Reze and Denji every day. They shouldn’t waste one day! Not even for a kidnapping scheme!

“Stop it!” Damian yelled at the attacker, because that always worked in stories and kinda worked with the bus hijacker. “My father will find you and you’ll go to prison!”

His voice came out much shakier than he hoped.

But the woman turned her head slightly—as if she’d heard something interesting.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” She sighed, “Makima is always listening.”

“That’s Denji’s mom!” Anya said, “Makima is Denji’s mom!”

“Huh?!”

“Let the boy go,” Yor said as she twisted her borrowed sword.

“No,” The silverhaired woman said, “Let Makima know. Oh wait, she probably already knows… That I will exchange her son with my Reze.”

“Oh yeah, that’s Quanxi,” Anya whispered to Damian, “Reze’s mom.”

“HUUUUHH?!!!” Damian shouted even louder.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Denji Hayakawa

If someone had told Denji at breakfast that he would end up tied to a chair in a fancy Japanese sushi bar that smelled like soy sauce and wasabi, he would’ve asked for a jam with toast. His death-row meal should always be toast and jam. Always.

Across the room there were two women, one being his mother… and one with silver hair who turned out to be Reze’s mother. 

His mother has that dangerous smile on her face again, her light red hair almost touching the board. Yeah. They were setting up a chessboard made entirely of sushi.

Actual sushi for Makima and sashimi for Quanxi. Tuna for pawns. Ebi for the knights. Tamago for the rooks. Unagi for bishops. Fugu for queen and of course Kingfish for king. Very original.

Why, Denji knew because they chose it from the menu for about an hour. Silent. But seriously staring at the menu like their child’s life depended on it.

He wanted to ask why rich adults couldn’t negotiate like normal people, but what even was normal? Denji never negotiated a child’s life. What if his mother lost? Would he die? Why couldn’t they just exchange Denji with Reze like normal people?

Huh.

Maybe their parents were just hungry and lonely. This was just an excuse so they could eat sushi together on a random Tuesday.

Reze sat beside him, also tied up but somehow relaxed. She grabbed Denji’s hand even though both of their hands were tied up to a chair.

“It’s okay, Denji-kun,” Reze whispered, “Maybe one of us will die, but at least we get sushi.”

“Huh?” Denji blinked.

“My death-row meal is sushi,” Reze said cheerfully, “What’s yours?”

“Toast,” Denji said. “With jam and cinnamon. And… more jam.”

Reze tilted her head, “Hmm.. I don’t think they have it here, maybe you should live so you can have it! I’m happy with sushi.”

“Why can’t we both live?” Denji raised his eyebrow, “Then, I can treat you to lots of good food and we’ll play together everyday.”

“Are you saying you just want to eat and have fun?” Reze let out a chuckle.

“Yes,” Denji nodded, “You wanna do that with me?”

“Will there be sushi?”

“Of course! I also like sushi but not as much as toast and jam!”

Meanwhile, their kidnappers leaned over the sushi-board like world class champions.

They didn't say any words regarding “child exchange” yet, but it was implied. Every so often, one of them would make a move, the other would counter, and a piece of sushi would be given to Denji or Reze.

Denji didn’t understand any of this. But Reze’s hand was warm. It calmed him down. Pochita was curled under his chair like an emotional-support dog. Poor Pochita didn’t know that it might be Denji’s last time to see him. Or Reze’s. He didn’t know which one was worse.

He leaned toward Reze and whispered, “Do you think we’re gonna live?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know Denji-kun, I hope so.”

Then another mouthful entered Reze’s mouth. Her mother looked rather unhappy as the ebi sashimi entered her daughter’s mouth. Huh. Was that her knight? An important piece?

Apparently, knights mattered to Quanxi. A lot.

Denji had been watching her zig-zagging those shrimps through the battlefield all the damn time. They were the only things keeping Makima from bulldozing the board.

Without the knight, Quanxi’s side of the board looked… bleh. No more zig-zag shrimp then. Not fun. But then again, maybe that meant his mother did something that would save Denji’s life!

Makima smiled the way his social worker lady smiled when she caught a mouse at the trap she set up back at the orphanage.

It was a scary smile.

Quanxi exhaled slowly, as if she were trying to push a series of bad decisions out of her lungs. Denji noticed she was probably losing the sushi war. Half her board was eaten, she lost her precious ebi and Makima was smiling calmly.

Reze’s mom finally set her chopsticks down.

“Fine,” Quanxi said. “Let’s try something stupid. Let’s communicate.”

Makima didn’t blink.

Quanxi rubbed a hand over her face.

“Are you still angry that I left your underground network?” Reze’s mom asked, voice lower now. “Because if this is about me retiring… then leave Reze out of it.”

Across the table, Makima’s fingers hovered over a piece of tamago sushi like Quanxi’s words didn’t matter at all.

Quanxi sighed and moved her unagi. Huh. So something else other than prawns could zig-zag too. But this one was just a straight diagonal line. The ebi moved like the letter L.

Makima smiled softly, “A meal is better when you get to relax.”

Quanxi blocked the incoming sushi piece Makima flicked across the board. Another block. Another chopstick sound as they fought over something. Denji didn’t know a thing about this. Chinese people like Quanxi should’ve been smart, she was one of the dumb ones. Reze’s mom finally exhaled a long breath. Her hand moved to her side board and caught a thin slice of sashimi. She placed it onto Reze’s mouth without looking away from Makima.

Makima’s smile sharpened. “Are you relaxed, Reze?”

Reze just nodded, her legs swung under the chair as she chewed.

“What a good girl.” Makima’s eyes returned to Quanxi.

“What do you want from us?” Reze’s mom asked.

Makima didn’t answer immediately. Instead she just pressed her chopsticks together. “Leave Denji alone.”

“My Reze didn’t—”

“I expect a yes or a woof.” His mother’s smile was soft, it was that scary smile again. “I don’t need a dog that says no.”

“Isn’t that why I left? Because I said no?”

Makima leaned a fraction back in her chair, folding her hands over her lap. “I could’ve given you everything. All the women in the world. Every indulgence, both legal and illegal ones.”

Makima’s long lashes lifted a little. “But you settled for this life.”

“You’ve seen everything, Makima,” Quanxi said. “You and your eyes…and your ears.” She carved a breath, slow and deliberate. “But you should know—ignorance is bliss.”

Without waiting for the sushi chess to finish, Quanxi drew her blade straight to Makima’s neck.

Makima didn’t rise. She simply lifted a hand, like she was surrendering. But from the restaurant’s hallway, waitresses and waitresses took out their swords too, shoes squeaked on the polished floor.

Reze whispered to Denji, “An ambush?”

“More like a trap,” he sighed, “And your mom fell for it.”

The men moved and slid a knife to Quanxi’s throat. By the time it happened, Makima had already dodged.

To stop Makima, Reze’s mom kicked the table, toppling the sushi board to Makima’s face, but his mother dodged, sending the nigiris skidding across the floor. One of the men slipped, stepped on a piece of sashimi, Quanxi’s blade clipped his tie clean off.

Denji blinked, realizing Anya was untying him and Damian was untying Reze from behind.

“Let’s go guys!” Anya whispered, “I know a hidden tunnel!”

Denji watched as their mothers were busy fighting. Another man lunged. Quanxi ducked under him, letting the man’s fist hit the sushi bar.

Makima slashed Quanxi’s cheek with wooden chopsticks. It was laced with something acidic that burnt Reze’s mom’s skin. 

Another tap from Anya, “Come on Reze and Denji! Your mothers are both crazy! Let’s run!”

“I thought you wanted to meet them!” Damian sighed.

“It was before I knew they were THIS CRAZY!”

The remaining men lunged as a unit. Plates breaking, wasabi forcefully spread to their eyes, swords clashing… 

As the kids and Pochita started crawling under the tables, Denji could hear his mother let out a small groan. He looked back and saw Quanxi grabbing a soy sauce bottle, smashing it across his mother’s head.

Makima watched her with fond irritation.

“Still, wild I see,” Makima murmured, dark soy sauce staining her hair and white shirt.

“And you,” Quanxi shot back, dodging Makima, flinging a chair to block an attack, “still think everyone’s your dog.”

The wood splintered as five men slashed their swords to the damn chair. 

Makima’s smile returned. “Only the competent ones.”

Denji kept running with his classmate and stopped at the “secret tunnel” that turned out to be just a laundry chute. He took a wild guess because he smelled detergent and his old orphanage had one of these. Now it served as an awkward slide for kids trying to escape a sushi bar fight.

Anya probably found it because she was short and observant. Damian probably found it because he was a simp who followed his girlfriend everywhere. And Denji and Reze? Well, they found it because they followed their classmate.

Denji shot down the chute and landed in a heap of white sheets—probably old table covers, smelled faintly with soy sauce and wasabi. The boy flailed, arms tangling in dirty white fabric, and shouted, “Aaa! Pochita!!!”

The little dog yipped somewhere beneath the cloth. Denji scrambled, punching through folds, his panic escalating faster than his sense of balance.

He couldn’t lose Pochita. His only friend.

Then he saw her—Reze, crouched and smiling, holding Pochita tight against her chest. “Here!” she said cheerfully. “Pochita is safe!”

Denji blinked at the two of them, and let out a satisfying exhale, “We lived! We lived!”

“Shut up dork!” Damian grabbed his hand, “We have to move now!”

Pochita barked again, and Denji followed them.

Damian and Anya led the way through the laundry room, their tiny footsteps echoing against damp fabric and linen carts. Anya found the back door and made a click sound then pushed it open. Outside, the sunset framed the alley, and a massive white dog appeared.

“Woof!” the white dog barked. Pochita answered with another bark. Both tails wagged back and forth like they were already friends.

“Get on!” Anya said, crouching on top of the big dog.

“What?!” Damian said, blinking. “You think your dog can carry four people and a small dog? Two people I can understand, but FOUR?!”

“Yes!” Anya said firmly. “I can see it. In his vision—I mean… intuition!”

Damian blinked again. “Right. Intuition. Totally makes sense.”

Denji muttered, “Well… here we go then.”

The four of them climbed on top of Bond. Pochita was tucked under Reze’s arm like a handbag. Then, the dog moved like it was a racing car. So fast!

Bond ran through the streets, some of his white fur flying out, paws thudding against concrete. Denji hung on for dear life, Pochita squirming in Reze’s arms, while Damian and Anya somehow stayed upright like they had done this a thousand times on their dates!

“AAA!!!!!” Denji shouted as they came to a screeching halt. Anya had spotted a film crew setting up in a nearby parking lot. Bright lights, cameras, microphones… and a poster that made his eyes widen.

SPY WARS: LIVE ACTION REMAKE

“IT’S BONDMAN’S new movie!” she squealed, practically vibrating with excitement. “Let’s go see it, Bond!” She wiggled, tugging at the dog’s fur.

“Huh?” Damian groaned, “You named your dog after a TV-show character? So lame. You’re lame shrimp!”

“Pochita isn’t a lame name!” Denji shouted, glaring at him. 

“What?! You also named your dog based on a TV-show character?!” Damian threw his hands up.

“Yeah!” Denji said proudly. “I named it from that anime called Chainsaw Man!”

Damian’s face looked horrified. “You’re six! You cannot watch that anime!”

Denji shrugged. “Eh, it’s not like anyone can stop me.”

Damian groaned again, muttering something about poor life choices, while Anya laughed and guided Bond to the nearby set.

“Wait… that’s my sister!” Denji shouted, pointing at Power.

His sister’s long silky pink hair whipped around in the artificial breeze from the fan behind her. She looked like a rising ten-year-old star there. Denji blinked. He had seen Power in all her chaotic mess at home: yelling, breaking things, making Aki stressed as the girl ate his homework. Yeah, not the dog ate his homework, but his sister! Aki was so pissed. And yet here she was.

How the hell did she land a role? She couldn’t even memorize a script without improvising an entire monologue about how she was a god and everyone needed to worship her!

“Let’s hide!” Denji shouted, “She’ll tell my mother!”

“But Anya wanted to see the movie!” She didn’t listen to Denji and kept lunging forward until they were close enough to the set.

“Hey, maybe we can watch from the food truck!” Reze suggested, her emerald eyes sparkling.

“Good idea, Reze!” Anya said, grinning.

Well… maybe not a good idea. But certainly a less dangerous one than launching straight onto the set. Power would notice him and she would tell Makima. She was chaotic like that.

Denji noticed that the food truck wasn’t glamorous—just a battered van painted yellow and white, the words KOBENI’S CAR on the side in uneven letters. A little bell chimed every time someone ordered, and the smell of fresh bread wafted through the air.

Reze had already brought something there and ran to him with bread and a small jar of colorful stuff.

“Here,” she said, handing Denji a piece of toast and the jars.

Denji blinked at it. It wasn’t just a colorful set of jars, it was filled with different kinds of jams—strawberries, peaches, and blueberries. “Reze.. you remembered.”

“Well,” she smiled, “just in case today’s your last day on earth!”

“Thanks,” Denji said, taking a bite after he spread the jams all over his toast. He grinned. “It’s delicious.”

“Now we both had our death-row meals!” Reze said happily.

Anya tilted her head. “What’s a death-row meal?”

“How did you even pass Crime & Punishment 101?” Damian said, folding his arms and looking disgusted. “It’s the meal you request in prison before a death sentence.”

“Oh! Then Anya’s will be peanuts! What about Second Son?” she asked, eyes wide.

“I… I just wanted to eat the meal my mother made for me.” Damian looked flushed, like he wished he didn’t say it out loud.

“Are you sure your mother would still cook for you if you’re a criminal that will be sentenced to death?” Denji asked mid-bite.

“Of course not!” Damian groaned, “‘My mom probably would disown me, but we’re talking hypothetically! Literally speaking, I wouldn’t have committed a crime in the first place!”

“But you just did,” Denji pointed at Damian, “You kidnap two children from their mothers.”

“I SAVED YOUR LIFE!” Damian shouted like he was finally losing it.

“That girl is so cool!” Anya shouted, “Anya wants to be like her too! Look! She also has pink hair like Anya!”

“Bow before me! Power is god!” Denji’s sister shouted, throwing her tiny arms wide at the movie set. Even at a distance, her voice still sounded so loud.

“I knew it!” He sighed, “She always went off-script!”

“I am the great Power! Fear me!” she added, laughing menacingly as menacingly as a ten-year-old with pink hair could manage.

Anya clapped. “So cool!!!”

“Yes! So cool!!!” Reze began clapping too.

Damian groaned. “Your favorite tv-show is so weird.”

“That’s not how the plot is like,” Denji added, “I’ve watched it too, it’s—” 

Power stomped her tiny foot and glared. “Silence, mortals! I will smite BONDMAN with my—my—” She paused, frowning, “—tiny but mighty and beautiful eyes!”

“CUT!” The director said, “Power that was…”

Denji waited for a shout, another take…

“BRILLIANT!!! AMAZING!” The director clapped his hands.

“No!” Denji groaned, “The live action version always flunked! I knew it!”

“She’s amazing!!!” Anya clapped her hand even louder.

“No, no,” Denji shook his head, “She’s probably hired to fill a diversity slot!”

Bam!

Before any of them could react, the truck was hit by a baseball bat. Makima’s men stepped into view, all moving with baseball bats. Denji knew the type: black tie, white shirt, black pants.

“Ready to return home, young master?” one of them said, smiling at Denji.

A particularly muscular man reached out and grabbed Reze’s hand. “Well, look what we have here.”

Denji didn’t pause. He grabbed the nearest glass of jam and flung it at the man. The sticky blueberry stained the muscles.

“Stay away from Reze!” Denji shouted, voice cracking a little bit.

Pochita ran away from Reze’s arms, and suddenly just jumped and rode Bond. The two dogs lunged to the muscle man and let out a low growl.

“What?!” The man shouted angrily, “Get this dog away from me!”

The eight men followed his instructions, baseball bats raised. But Bond and Pochita moved together like a unit.

Bond lunged first, low and fast, slamming into one man’s knees and sending him stumbling into his comrades. Pochita jumped a bit and bit a man’s jaw, snapping it.

A bat swung toward Bond’s head. He twisted mid-air, letting it swipe past him. Another bat came down on Pochita—he jumped, landing on Bond’s back again. The man yelped, swinging wildly, even hitting his own teammate in the process.

Denji, Reze, Damian, and Anya could barely keep up with the motion. The fight was so intense, everyone was watching with them like it was part of the movie set shooting. 

Bond switched left, then right, almost as if the dog could read the attackers’ minds. Pochita too! That boy was so fast, he even bit a man’s hair revealing a wig and the bald man ran away in shame.

By the time the last man raised his bat, he yelled, “No way! These dogs are cheating! They can’t be this coordinated!”

Bond’s growl deepened, Pochita barked sharply. Then, in an instant, they surged forward charging the nearest man like a bull.

The man barely had time to react. Bond’s power slammed into him, sending him backward. Pochita leapt at his legs, biting enough for the man to start screaming.

He choked, stumbled, and hit the ground with a loud thud.

Denji blinked. “Wow! They won! Together!”

Reze grinned, welcoming Pochita as the dog jumped into her hug. “You’re amazing Pochita!”

Anya bounced on her toes and rode her pet again. “Bond is amazing! You’ll get a nice dinner from Papa soon!”

Damian, still trying to stay sane, muttered under his breath, “I’m officially done underestimating disabled people and animals.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Loid Forger

Loid Forger had no business with the Hayakawa enterprise. None at all. His mission was simple. A spy that would ensure a geopolitical nightmare involving two countries never happened. Ever.

Everything he did—his disguise, his fabricated family, everything—was aimed at preventing a conflict that could kill thousands, maybe millions. The Hayakawa underground activities? Irrelevant. Facing Makima Hayakawa was not his job.

So, imagine his shock when the woman herself showed up for a therapy appointment. He’d already heard whispers from his informants, but seeing it with his own eyes as he watched kidnapped kids and kungfu dogs was something else entirely.

He had to stand back and watch, all the while calculating worst-case scenarios in his head. Just in case his daughter got hurt. Fortunately, Anya was perfectly safe. That was, by far, the best outcome of the day.

All the kids eventually returned to school, refusing to come back home. Apparently, the principal had heard the story and insisted that Makima and Quanxi undergo mental health assistance. The children were instructed to stay in the dormitory for a while.

Not good news for him. Anya was also stuck in there. Loid probably looked like a bad father because of this Makima woman. Also, he knew that the longer he spent time with her, the more it risked compromising his true mission.

Loid pinched the bridge of his nose and tried his best to smile at the clearly grieving mother who was forced to stay away from her own son.

Light filtered through the blinds in sharp lines, cutting across the two half-empty cups of cold coffee on their desk. Makima sighed and drank one. Clearly grieving and sleep-deprived.

“I just wanted the best for Denji,” Makima said flatly, “But now the ungrateful boy didn’t even want to talk to me.”

“Hayakawa-san,” Loid began, “let’s start with a grounding exercise. I want you to focus on your breathing okay? Let’s try and inhale for three counts… hold for three. Exhale for five. Repeat this five times.”

To his surprise, she did it perfectly. Her chest rising and falling.

“Good,” Loid said. “Next, I want you to visualize your son. What does he mean to you?”

Makima was still breathing slowly when she said, “he’s a stray dog… a useless stupid stray dog.”

“Right,” Loid continued, “we’ll do a visualization. Imagine a safe place—somewhere you feel calm and protected. Picture it with your son in it. How do you feel?”

Makima let out a long, measured sigh. “There is no safe space in this world,” she said flatly. “None. You always need to have your guard up. The walls are listening, doctor.”

Loid screamed internally. Makima probably believed she was protecting her son by controlling the entire environment. He wasn’t a real therapist but he took enough courses to decide that she had a hypervigilant attachment disorder, combined with maternal overcontrol. Even a hypothetical “safe place” didn’t exist in her brain.

As a spy, he didn’t want to involve himself with Makima for too long so he just said…

“Hayakawa-san,” he said with the best fake smile he could give her, “your case is unfortunately too severe for me to fix.” 

He slid another business card across the desk, just beside their coffee. “Please find yourself a more competent therapist.”

It wasn’t the first time Loid Forger had secretly checked on Anya at Eden Academy. As a professional spy, Twilight had long perfected the art of “casual surveillance.” But tonight was different. Tonight, he was going undercover after hours.

The academy’s dormitory wing was so bright, the polished windows reflected the endless rows of fancy chandeliers. Huh. Probably an unlimited budget for electricity bills. Loid supposed rich families needed something to justify those tuition fees. God knows it took a toll on his organization’s budget.

Loid slipped through the shadows between hedges, scaled a low wall, and eased himself through a narrow side door into the library.

From behind a bookshelf marked “JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure,” Loid crouched, pretending to hide himself while his eyes stayed on the children.

Anya and Reze were curled together on a beanbag, shoulders bumping as they giggled over a Spy Wars comic. At a nearby table, Damian and Denji were hunched over an open workbook. Damian’s pencil tapped the page so much it dented on the edges.

“Aaah!!! I hate this!!!” Denji groaned, nearly sliding off his chair. “I wanna read Spy Wars too!”

“No!” Damian snapped, pushing his worksheet toward him. “You will finish this math problem first. Anya and Reze already finished theirs!”

“Can’t I just copy everything?”

“Denji, you can’t copy all the answers! You don’t even know if the thing you copied is right or wrong! You have to figure it out yourself!”

Loid raised a brow behind the book with a muscular man on the cover.

Good grief… that’s almost word-for-word what he told Anya. Loid watched Damian pinch the bridge of his nose like a tired middle-aged man that went through three messy divorces.

Probably forced to grow up too early. His father pushed him harder than any child should be pushed. Of course Donovan Desmond would do that. The man could start wars. Loid had to make sure it never happened.

As Damian continued lecturing Denji, Anya and Reze giggled again, flipping another page of Spy Wars.

“Hey, Anya! Do you think Bondman will marry me?” Reze asked, hugging the Spy Wars comic to her chest.

“Huh?” Anya blinked. “Reze like Bondman?”

“Yes! He’s so cool! And I like blondes!” Reze declared proudly.

Before Anya could even process that, Denji shot up from his chair. The boy left his homework and went for the kill.

“WAIT! Does that mean you like me, Reze?!” he asked, eyes sparkling with desperate hope.

“Of course! I like you a lot!”

Denji grabbed her hands instantly. “Then let’s get married one day! I’ll take care of you!”

From the table, Damian practically choked.

“ARE YOU BOTH INSANE?!” he shouted. “Your moms hate each other! My mom is good friends with Anya’s mom and that STILL doesn’t guarantee a healthy marriage!”

Anya froze. Then, with a dramatic gasp, she shouted, “Nooo!!! Mama is winning again! Their mom friendship is leveling up faster than our friendship! If this continues, I’ll be forced to marry YOU! Then DIVORCE YOU!”

Damian blushed. “Why are you thinking about divorces?! Besides, who wants to marry you?! HUH?! You ugly shrimp!!!”

From behind the bookshelf, Loid massaged his temples. He came here for a simple surveillance check, but instead he wished he could unhear everything.

“What’s your favorite flower Reze?” Denji asked the girl.

“Daisies!” She smiled.

“Then, I’ll find one for you tomorrow!” Denji smiled back.

“Look, Denji,” Damian groaned, massaging his temples. “If you can find a daisy, then you can find the will to study. Because if you want to go Romeo and Juliet on her, that means you’ll have to earn your own money as an adult!”

“Huh?” Denji tilted his head, clearly losing it.

“You think money and sports cars grow on trees?!” Damian snapped. “If you two never get your mother’s blessings, then you’ll need your own career! You can’t rely on your mom’s connections or trust funds and you’ll have to take care of her!”

“It’s okay, Denji,” Reze said sweetly. “I’ll take care of you.”

“REZE!!! Let’s run away together!”

“Denji, listen to me,” Damian stopped him, “According to Ostania Juvenile Protection Act, Clause 17, Paragraph E, minors under eighteen are legally prohibited from eloping without written parental consent.”

Huh. Loid was rather surprised the boy knew that, he knew it wasn’t in the school curriculum so Damian actually researched it himself. What, the Desmond boy couldn’t have possibly thought of eloping with his daughter right? 

“And under Clause 18, Paragraph A, if you run away together, your guardians will be allowed to file a restraining order.”

Denji’s eyes turned into swirls.

“Heh… Second Son thinks too much,” Anya sighed dramatically, collapsing backward into a beanbag. “Anya tired. Anya wanna sleep now.”

“NO! Don’t sleep in the library!” Damian panicked. “There are rules! We have curfew!”

“Carry me then… so trouble..som.. zzzz,” Anya didn’t even finish her sentence before she passed out on the beanbag.

From behind the bookshelf, Loid quietly thunked his forehead against the back of a thick encyclopedia of pirates and naval tax avoidance.

Loid already put in hours of paperwork on Makima’s case. Had to gather his thoughts after making sure Anya was safe from criminals, dogs and a movie set filled with shenanigans. He’d reviewed intelligence reports, drafted spy related documents, and filed the absurd amount of paperwork WISE demanded he was sure made out of spite!

He was done. Absolutely done.

Maybe Loid needed sleep too.

When Loid finally got home, he was greeted by the familiar scent of danger.

A very specific kind of danger.

On the kitchen counter sat a bowl of something black, sticky, and disturbingly inedible. Bond was backed into a corner, whimpering and barking for help. His food bowl had one of the black substance too. The dog had survived eight muscular man attacks but whimpered at Yor’s cooking.

His pretend wife greeted Loid, apron dusted with flour and splatters of… whatever that black gooey thing was.

“Welcome home, Loid! I made dinner for everyone! Including Bond!”

Bond’s tail tucked between his legs. He shot Loid a desperate look that confirmed the dog had seen Satan himself. The devil. The ultimate devil of all. Moms. Moms with scary smiles and questionable outcomes.

Loid swallowed hard and forced the most heroic smile of his entire spy career.

“Wow! This looks… amazing, Yor-san!” he said, voice beaming with unadulterated joy. 

Suddenly his instinct got the best of him and he swiftly grabbed Bond’s bowl. “Actually. I’ll eat this one too! Bond isn’t worthy of your wonderful cooking!”

Bond nodded vigorously, white ears flapping back and forth. The dog had already accepted that if this food touched his tongue, he was going to meet Hades in the underworld, forced to befriend Cerberus and all.

“Really? But I also made some for you—”

Loid’s soul left his body for a moment and he smiled, “Of course I will eat them all and make Bond a new, much less marvelous dog food!”

“But you must be so tired,” Yor let out an exhale, “Especially after having Denji’s mom as your client today.”

“Well, that one was nothing!” Loid said as he munched the black gooey substance. 

It was not as bad as her usual cooking was. Huh. Maybe he had gotten used to abominations after all. His tongue went all numb and cooperative.

“Do you think Makima-san was being overprotective because she loves Denji too much?” Yor asked softly.

“That’s client confidentiality,” Loid swallowed something black that might have been alive and cursed. Then he shoveled another bite in. Bond was looking at him, horrified.

“You’re right…” Yor sighed. “I just hope Anya can return home soon. I really miss her.”

Loid glanced up. His wife looked genuinely troubled. Her dark hair looked rather messy and her red eyes looked tired and slightly tilted downward.

“You’re a wonderful mother, Yor-san,” Loid said gently, with gooey black smear clinging to the corner of his mouth.

Yor blinked, startled. “Loid-san… I’m not her real mother.”

Loid froze for a moment. The truth was… He wasn’t Anya’s real father either. Wasn’t even slightly blood related. But he couldn’t tell her that. It would ruin his mission.

So he simply wiped the black substance from his lips, smiled, and said…

“Real or not… you care for her. That’s the only thing that truly matters in the end.”

Yor’s eyes glowed with relief, and Loid found himself looking at those beautiful glistening eyes a little longer than a normal spy would.

THE END