𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐐𝐬 || five hargreeves ¹ [✔]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 || 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄

— ❝ WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE. WHAT ARE YOU? TEN?❞

── ⋆⋅☂︎⋅⋆ ──

    THE HOUSE LOOKED EXACTLY THE SAME, only this time much darker. Sadder. It hung in every window like the smoke of a fire, on every wall like rain that just wouldn't end. Rin stood at its iron gates, the letters "U" and "A" decorating each swinging door covered in dust and overgrown vines.

She wanted to move, she really did. It was like her feet were cemented to the ground and her limbs solidified. The last time she had touched those gates, it was, for everyone else, 14 years ago and she was returning from a mission with her siblings. Not once did she realize it would be the last time she would see them for the next 24 years.

It was like it was yesterday.

Rin wasn't sure if it was a minute or an hour later that she swallowed the horse-pill sized lump in her throat and pushed past the tall black gates and through the front doors of the empty mansion. It hadn't changed a single bit.

Grandiose marble pillars that guided a tiled path to an extravagant carpeted imperial staircase, the second story guarded all the way around in an open square with a carefully detailed rail looking straight down into the center of the lobby. Level with the second floor, hanging on an old thick chain, was a two-tiered iron chandelier.

To her left was yet another staircase, though much smaller and underwhelming, that led to the bedrooms. To her right was the living area and bar, furnished with eccentric couches and sofas and chairs and animal heads and meaningless things her father had that collected dust. The grand fireplace with a mantlepiece that held a large painting of their Number Five.

Rin's feet moved faster than her brain could process and before she knew it, she was standing beside the oak coffee table, staring up at the painting. A single light shone down onto the canvas. God, did it look just like him.

She wondered if he was still gone. If he had found his way home yet. Maybe she'd find out in a few hours when her father's funeral was set to happen.

In the meantime, she would have a drink.

Her fingers wrapped around the neck of a Jack Daniel's bottle, the amber stuff sloshing around as she slammed a glass onto the counter and filled it nearly to the brim with the stuff. She didn't bother to put it back, knowing she'll want more later. It was downed in a minute, the familiar sting of it rushing down her throat like a comforting slap to the face.

"Who the hell are you?" The sheer accusation in the foreign voice made Rin nearly choke on her drink as she put the cup down. She wanted to place a bet with herself on who it belonged to but curiosity got the better of her and she swiveled around on the bar stool to see a man standing cautiously in the living area entryway.

He was dressed head to toe in black clothes, blades strapped to his right thigh and crossed over his chest secured by a leather body harness. His hair was cut short, faded on the sides. He was growing a mustache, slight stubble on his chin and jaw and there was a scar on the right side of his face just above his ear.

"Diego?" Rin's voice came out as a tiny whisper, contrasting her loose demeanor just moments earlier.

Diego's own features seemed to fall at the sight of his sister's face, but they twisted into something resembling shock or fear - or both - and he took a hesitant step forward. Rin took it as her cue to hop down from the stool.