The Promised Revenge [Manjiro Sano]

28

Guys, I think the fanfic writers' curse got to me cuz tell me why tf did I almost die from A COLD?!?!

***

February 20th 1996

"Kids! Look who's at the door!" The woman shouted from upstairs when hearing the doorbell.

"Y/n, you go," the boy said, his little hands holding a screwdriver as he spread the pieces of the skateboard he just received.

"No, I'm doing things," you complained.

"Doing what? Watching me do things?" He turned to you standing by his side, your eyes on his every move.

"I'm not just watching," you gasped, offended. "I'm annoying you while you do dumb things."

The doorbell rang again, somehow sounding louder than it did before. "Kids!" Your mother shouted again, her tone now irritated.

"Go see who it is!" Aaru ordered, clicking his tongue when he focused again on opening another nail.

"No, you're the one closer to the door!" You said back, clicking your tongue as well purposely.

"Just go before Mom kicks both our asses!"

"Ugh, fine!" You turned to the door, aggravated, murmuring under your breath. "If only I were an only child..."

"You would've still looked who's at the door," he answered, surprising you how he caught your whispering.

Your house was now used to being this chaotic once again. After your parents' small argument, they both came by to you two. They apologized for making a scene, saying that nothing was wrong and that they had a simple misunderstanding, and assuring you that it would never happen again.

It sure hasn't happened since then. Your father's -long- stay was turned into the most fun days of your entire existence, from going on family outings to taking you to a bookstore and telling you to get whatever you want, even trying your crazy cooking experiments.

You opened the door, annoyed that your bothering-Aaru-while-he's-serious session was cut short. It was an old man. No, an old mailman. Since when do mailmen ring the doorbell?

"The mailbox that way," you blankly pointed at the box planted a couple of feet away from the front door he stood at.

"I- I'm not here to put down any mail..." He replied, the sweet smile he was wearing dropping slowly.

You blinked, tilting your head, confused. "Then you here to collect it?"

"No..." He said again, his dark brown eyes moving around baffled before collecting himself and smiling once again. "Is your mom at home, dear?"

"I'm not answering that!" you frowned, giving him a creeped-out look and closing the door which he blocked.

"Wait!"

"Woo! Stranger danger!!"

"I'm not a stranger," he argued, lifting his wrinkled hands as if showing his innocence, a ring on his finger shining in your eyes.

"You sure about that?" you arched an eyebrow, scanning him up and down. "You know, when mom told me not to talk to strangers, I bet she had a spitting image of you in her mind."

"I'm actually here to see your mom," he argued again.

"Yeah, most kidnappers say that," you added, pursing your lips.