Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ After the Fall ❯ Discipline... ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Lady Aoi 
Knives brings his young charge to Demetry.
Anime/Manga: Trigun Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.14.2002 | Pages: 5 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 505 | Status: Completed
Knives brings his young charge to Demetry.
Anime/Manga: Trigun Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.14.2002 | Pages: 5 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 505 | Status: Completed
After the Fall
Chapter One: Discipline...
Summary: A young Legato begins his training under Knives' tutelage.
Rating: PG-13 for dark subject matter, mind games. Will become NC-17 later.
Spoilers: Isn't Knives a spoiler in and of himself? Up to episode 17 "Rem
Saverem"
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, either of them. But periodically, I like to wonder
what would happen if Legato stole my tofu dogs. I am strange like that...
Lady Aoi's Notes: Ehehehe... for those of you who are reading this looking for
some nice lemony Legato yaoi angst, it may take awhile. Be patient with me, ne?
I'm really trying to make this story more than that...
~*~
Demetry. The beauty of my self-created home astonishes even me sometimes,
especially when I have just returned from one of my (thankfully!) infrequent
journeys across this godforsaken desert. And after the strange events I have
witnessed today, I must say that the glow of my Edenic greenery has never been
more comforting... or more fairy-like in its beauty.
And from the look of astonishment currently crossing my Bluesummers' face, I can
safely say that it feels the same way.
"Have you ever seen anything quite like this, Bluesummers?" I question the boy.
It simply stares at my home in wonder for a few moments and then shakes its
filthy head.
"No, mister... I mean, Master," it replies. "They always told us about oasises
in class and stuff but they never said they were this big!"
"It is not an oasis," I correct. "This is Demetry, my home. And it is beautiful
and green because I made it that way."
It gives me a puzzled look. "You made this, Master?"
"Of course." I reward the child's question with an annoyed quirk of my eyebrow.
Need he really question his god?
The boy blanches a little at my disapproval and then returns its eyes to the
green line stretching across the horizon. A small, entirely uncontrived smile
crosses its face. Ahh, so it is in love with my home! How quaint...
"Alright, Master." Only now the boy's smile is trained on my face, not upon the
bounteous expanse of my creation. Once again I notice its eyes. They shine out
from its sunburnt face like a pair of lanterns... or rather like the twin sons
that orbit this hell of a world. The effect is altogether fascinating, but
deeply unnerving. I cannot help but feel I might go blind by staring too long.
"Master?" A reedy voice summons me from my reverie. Startled, I blink and
instinctively step back a pace. In response, the lanterns narrow slightly in....
concern?
Yes. My Bluesummers' brow is furrowed in concern, of all things!
"Master, are you OK? You look kinda pale..."
'Kinda pale'? Yes, I suppose I must look terrible. It has been a... troubling
and exhausting inferno of a day beneath these suns. True though this is, the
child has still spoken out of turn. "That is none of your concern, Bluesummers,"
I emphasize my point by jabbing my finger directly at the child's nose. It
flinches and backs away. "You are never to address me unless spoken to. Again,
child, do you understand?"
I am... mildly shocked by my Bluesummers' reaction. Instead of whimpering and
cowering away from my admonishing as any other frightened child or dog would do,
it merely looks at me calmly... then submissively kneels in the hot sand. "I'm
sorry, Master," it bows its head gravely. "I will never speak out of turn
again."
I do not, however, miss a beat. "Be sure that you don't," I turn away from the
creature and begin walking towards my home. After a few paces with the complete
absence of crunching soil behind me, I turn to find the thing still kneeling.
Ahhh, clever, clever child! Waiting for your Master to give permission. Alright.
"Well, get up and follow, Bluesummers." My heart nearly leaps in my chest as the
creature rises and begins toddling after me.
"And Bluesummers?" Again, nothing but golden silence meets my ears. "Do not look
Me in the eyes again. Do you understand?" And a small smile crosses my face as
the child simply bows its head in response.
"Good boy," I say as if congratulating a dog for going on the paper. "Now, come
with me. I will show you your new home..."
****
If my Bluesummers had been fascinated by a distant view of Demetry's myriad
trees, he was absolutely flabbergasted at the sight of the large, cobalt tower
that serves as my home. I must say, even I am impressed by the grandeur of this
former SEEDS ship hulk now gutted of its human machinery and turned into a Plant
incubator.
Ahh, Plants. My Bluesummers' face glows with their serene blue light as it peers
through the glass at my sleeping brothers and sisters. Its curiosity has been
peaked by these blue bulbs in their glass containers. And so, I allow it to
speak its mind.
~Aren't they beautiful, Bluesummers?~
The child is surprised to hear my voice in his head for the second time that day
but nonetheless provides me with an honest and blissfully taciturn answer. ~Yes,
Master!~
~Would you like to know what they are?~
~Please, Master.~
~This entire room is a giant incubator.~ It seems puzzled at the word. ~It is...
like a womb. These blue lights you see are gestating Plants. In fifty of your
years, they will mature into fetuses.~
Its face only further wrinkles with consternation. Ah. It seems the child does
not know what a fetus is... or gestation. Or a Plant, for that matter.
"You are a human male," I bluntly inform it as I slip my hand onto my chest. "I,
on the other hand, am a Plant." It has... no idea, has it? Did these humans
never tell my Bluesummers about my race? About the daily sacrifices we make so
its disgusting species may live in comfort and ease? For a moment, the taste of
bile dances against my palate. But why should I have expected any sympathy or
understanding from these stupid, selfish creatures?
"You do not know what a Plant is?"
"No, Master." The child looks as if I am about to hit it. And though I cannot
deny that I have a sudden urge to do so, I nonetheless find the situation
strangely amusing.
"Of course you do not," I snap. "This is because your species has believed
itself to be superior to mine for centuries." I can feel my eyes widening, my
viscera tensing as I clench my teeth and fists in anger. "For years your
scientists bred us like animals to power their homes and their cities with no
regard for our comfort and needs. And whenever we tried to claim anything for
ourselves, your people labeled us as monsters." Ahh! Why did I use that word?
These two syllables inevitably releases a plague of ghosts, including the frozen
shade of that drunken, foul-smelling Cro Magnon who had the temerity to label me
with this epithet as he stood over my helpless body with his...
...But I am losing myself. Measure, Millions Knives. Measure..... I need not
provide the boy with any more information. It already knows its race is nothing
but a complex parasite possessing sufficient intelligence only to eat, sleep and
torture. And I have far more important things to accomplish tonight.
I lean close to the child now, resisting my urge to provide it with a physical
demonstration of my hatred for its race. "Your people are nothing more than
stupid, wasteful slave traders and mine..." I sweep my hand out roughly to
gesture at my growing brethren nearly swiping the child across the face in the
process. "Mine are strong, powerful and practically immortal. What do you think,
Bluesummers? Were our situations reversed, would it not have been fitting for my
species to utilize your species as sources of energy?" As chattel.
"Yes, Master." But a nagging thought plagues the child's mind.
~If you are stronger, why don't you just kill all the humans?~
I will ignore the creature's disobedience for the moment, because the question
provides me with an interesting opportunity. "Because, my Bluesummers, my people
were raised to believe in a naive contradiction: that all creatures must be
treated with kindness, regardless of how they treated us in return."
I do not even need to read the child's thoughts to measure the disgust with
which it views Rem Saverem's juvenile philosophy. Its face alone speaks volumes.
I am about to speak more on the subject of Rem's idiotic philosophy when I
remember the child's filthiness... and worst of all its smell. Even the
relatively well-washed humans on the SEEDS ship smelled like flowers and honey
compared to this creature's stench.
"Enough of this for now," I inform it as I turn from my sleeping brethren. "We
must get you into a bath." Pheh. And into some decent clothing too, I am afraid.
The rags my Bluesummers sports now will probably not last the rest of the week.
****
An hour later, the child has washed and dressed in one of my cast off uniforms.
The sight of the jumpsuit I wore one hundred years ago sagging like a half shorn
cocoon from Bluesummers' shoulders sickens me. And yet, seeing the creature's
flesh would be even more disgusting. I suppose life requires us all to make some
sacrifices now and then. Though he is relatively clean now, I could do little
with his hair. It now falls down his back in one unkempt tangle. Were it not for
the unusual color, I would say its hair resembled a dead thing. Blue hair and
golden eyes...not even Plants have such unusual features. It is all very
unnerving. What genetic error has caused such strange mutations in this boy?
Regardless of the answer, that long azure mop will be the first thing to go.
"You are going to hold very still as I do this," I explain as I drape a large
rag over the boy's narrow shoulders. Bluesummers remains still as I slide my
shears around a large, snarled lock and press them together.
Snip! The matted thing tumbles across my hand and lands indecorously on the
floor. Ugh. Bluesummer's first task will be cleaning up after his own filthy
hair, that is certain.
As my scissors cut away at days, if not months of neglect and sand, I am
transported to another place, a distant time that feels as immediate to me as
this very moment. It was the day I first realized that a wedge had been driven
between my beloved Vash and myself.
Ah, yes... I remember everything about that morning. I was aroused from a
restless and sheet tangling sleep by a gnawing premonition. It was a gut
feeling, a bowel and sweat feeling that inevitably informs one that one's life
is about to change irrevocably... and for the worse. Alert to this hidden
danger, I immediately reached for the twin sleeping at my side, as if to both
warn and protect him.
Seconds before my hands met only empty air and vaguely warm sheets, I knew. My
brother was no longer at my side. Panicking, I leapt out of bed and raced
through the ship's corridors, searching, calling, begging for my dear, dear
Vash. I was more terrified than I have ever been in my life. The walls around me
shrunk, elongated, twisted and changed shape into frightening mazes and
arabesques until finally I stumbled upon the rec room's door. Somehow I had
enough presence of mind to enter my password even as my throat and lungs began
to fill with a thick and sour phlegm. Hours later (or so it seemed to my
exhausted mind), the door slid open.
Oh...
Oh Vash... dearest brother. That bitch had cut your hair. What little remained
had been feathered around your face, making you look like some vapid page boy
out of a medieval Earth manuscript. You both seemed less shocked at my sudden
appearance than alarmed, but Rem covered nicely. Oh yes. As she carved away at
your head, she explained that it was time for a change. When she was finished
binding your hair like so much grain, you complained that it stuck up. She said
it reminded her of someone she loved. You said you wanted to be the one she
loved. She laughed at you, a gentle, motherly laugh that to my ears sounded no
less bitter and cruel than Steve's. It was as if a mirror had been shattered,
yet only I was cut by the falling fragments that still reflected your eyes, your
hair, the image of what you had been. The image of me.
I ran from that terrible place and took a pair of sheers to my own locks. I
ground the glass beneath my heel until it could no longer reflect anything. And
I swore that day that I would repay Rem Saverem for robbing you of your
strength.
Is it not fascinating how the sweetest revenge often comes later than we would
wish? Nearly one hundred and fifty years after the fall, I am given a young,
unusual boy. It came from out of nowhere and ran into me quite by chance. Other
human males wanted to kill it, but I allowed it to be saved. And now...
Now....
Rem Saverem, as my fingers slide through this child's hair, you can be thankful
for one thing. You taught me how to be a father, albeit in a way you would have
certainly abhorred. You cut my brother's hair just as I am cutting the hair of
my Bluesummers. You then blinded my brother to life's bitter realities -- nay,
to his own twin!-- and effectively turned him into nothing more than an
idealistic slab of meat. Are you happy, Rem? Are you happy that your beloved
'son' now daily feeds humans from his wounds? Are you proud of what you did to
him, you sadistic whore?
Be happy, Rem. True to your methods, I will blind him to life's realities, to
anything but service... only he will not serve you and your utopic wet dreams.
He will be an empty vessel whose walls will ring with the reverberation of his
own emptiness until the noise is so loud, mankind will have to hold its ears or
die.
And then, when I am finished, I will destroy him. And I will laugh as I do. At
you, at him, and at your stupidity.
Snip. The last lock of mangy hair falls from my child's neck. I cannot help but
smile at my results. Bluesummers' hair is still relatively long, and the bangs
sweep down elegantly over his left eye concealing at least one of the unnerving
lanterns from my sight. And yet, it is still long enough to give him a vaguely
rakish appearance. Oh yes. He will grow, soon enough, into a very handsome young
man.
"Do you like what I have done with it, Legato?" I murmur as I brush my fingers
through the creature's hair. To aid the child with its answer, my free hand
catches a nearby mirror and tilts it to his face. The glass catches the
sunlight, blinding us for the briefest of seconds, and then our twin reflections
blink back at us.
Legato answers instinctively. "Yes, Master."
"Good," I simply smile as I study the portrait. It looks vaguely familiar. "Very
good."
Then I lean down and plant a gentle kiss on Legato's shorn head.
.
Chapter One: Discipline...
Summary: A young Legato begins his training under Knives' tutelage.
Rating: PG-13 for dark subject matter, mind games. Will become NC-17 later.
Spoilers: Isn't Knives a spoiler in and of himself? Up to episode 17 "Rem
Saverem"
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, either of them. But periodically, I like to wonder
what would happen if Legato stole my tofu dogs. I am strange like that...
Lady Aoi's Notes: Ehehehe... for those of you who are reading this looking for
some nice lemony Legato yaoi angst, it may take awhile. Be patient with me, ne?
I'm really trying to make this story more than that...
~*~
Demetry. The beauty of my self-created home astonishes even me sometimes,
especially when I have just returned from one of my (thankfully!) infrequent
journeys across this godforsaken desert. And after the strange events I have
witnessed today, I must say that the glow of my Edenic greenery has never been
more comforting... or more fairy-like in its beauty.
And from the look of astonishment currently crossing my Bluesummers' face, I can
safely say that it feels the same way.
"Have you ever seen anything quite like this, Bluesummers?" I question the boy.
It simply stares at my home in wonder for a few moments and then shakes its
filthy head.
"No, mister... I mean, Master," it replies. "They always told us about oasises
in class and stuff but they never said they were this big!"
"It is not an oasis," I correct. "This is Demetry, my home. And it is beautiful
and green because I made it that way."
It gives me a puzzled look. "You made this, Master?"
"Of course." I reward the child's question with an annoyed quirk of my eyebrow.
Need he really question his god?
The boy blanches a little at my disapproval and then returns its eyes to the
green line stretching across the horizon. A small, entirely uncontrived smile
crosses its face. Ahh, so it is in love with my home! How quaint...
"Alright, Master." Only now the boy's smile is trained on my face, not upon the
bounteous expanse of my creation. Once again I notice its eyes. They shine out
from its sunburnt face like a pair of lanterns... or rather like the twin sons
that orbit this hell of a world. The effect is altogether fascinating, but
deeply unnerving. I cannot help but feel I might go blind by staring too long.
"Master?" A reedy voice summons me from my reverie. Startled, I blink and
instinctively step back a pace. In response, the lanterns narrow slightly in....
concern?
Yes. My Bluesummers' brow is furrowed in concern, of all things!
"Master, are you OK? You look kinda pale..."
'Kinda pale'? Yes, I suppose I must look terrible. It has been a... troubling
and exhausting inferno of a day beneath these suns. True though this is, the
child has still spoken out of turn. "That is none of your concern, Bluesummers,"
I emphasize my point by jabbing my finger directly at the child's nose. It
flinches and backs away. "You are never to address me unless spoken to. Again,
child, do you understand?"
I am... mildly shocked by my Bluesummers' reaction. Instead of whimpering and
cowering away from my admonishing as any other frightened child or dog would do,
it merely looks at me calmly... then submissively kneels in the hot sand. "I'm
sorry, Master," it bows its head gravely. "I will never speak out of turn
again."
I do not, however, miss a beat. "Be sure that you don't," I turn away from the
creature and begin walking towards my home. After a few paces with the complete
absence of crunching soil behind me, I turn to find the thing still kneeling.
Ahhh, clever, clever child! Waiting for your Master to give permission. Alright.
"Well, get up and follow, Bluesummers." My heart nearly leaps in my chest as the
creature rises and begins toddling after me.
"And Bluesummers?" Again, nothing but golden silence meets my ears. "Do not look
Me in the eyes again. Do you understand?" And a small smile crosses my face as
the child simply bows its head in response.
"Good boy," I say as if congratulating a dog for going on the paper. "Now, come
with me. I will show you your new home..."
****
If my Bluesummers had been fascinated by a distant view of Demetry's myriad
trees, he was absolutely flabbergasted at the sight of the large, cobalt tower
that serves as my home. I must say, even I am impressed by the grandeur of this
former SEEDS ship hulk now gutted of its human machinery and turned into a Plant
incubator.
Ahh, Plants. My Bluesummers' face glows with their serene blue light as it peers
through the glass at my sleeping brothers and sisters. Its curiosity has been
peaked by these blue bulbs in their glass containers. And so, I allow it to
speak its mind.
~Aren't they beautiful, Bluesummers?~
The child is surprised to hear my voice in his head for the second time that day
but nonetheless provides me with an honest and blissfully taciturn answer. ~Yes,
Master!~
~Would you like to know what they are?~
~Please, Master.~
~This entire room is a giant incubator.~ It seems puzzled at the word. ~It is...
like a womb. These blue lights you see are gestating Plants. In fifty of your
years, they will mature into fetuses.~
Its face only further wrinkles with consternation. Ah. It seems the child does
not know what a fetus is... or gestation. Or a Plant, for that matter.
"You are a human male," I bluntly inform it as I slip my hand onto my chest. "I,
on the other hand, am a Plant." It has... no idea, has it? Did these humans
never tell my Bluesummers about my race? About the daily sacrifices we make so
its disgusting species may live in comfort and ease? For a moment, the taste of
bile dances against my palate. But why should I have expected any sympathy or
understanding from these stupid, selfish creatures?
"You do not know what a Plant is?"
"No, Master." The child looks as if I am about to hit it. And though I cannot
deny that I have a sudden urge to do so, I nonetheless find the situation
strangely amusing.
"Of course you do not," I snap. "This is because your species has believed
itself to be superior to mine for centuries." I can feel my eyes widening, my
viscera tensing as I clench my teeth and fists in anger. "For years your
scientists bred us like animals to power their homes and their cities with no
regard for our comfort and needs. And whenever we tried to claim anything for
ourselves, your people labeled us as monsters." Ahh! Why did I use that word?
These two syllables inevitably releases a plague of ghosts, including the frozen
shade of that drunken, foul-smelling Cro Magnon who had the temerity to label me
with this epithet as he stood over my helpless body with his...
...But I am losing myself. Measure, Millions Knives. Measure..... I need not
provide the boy with any more information. It already knows its race is nothing
but a complex parasite possessing sufficient intelligence only to eat, sleep and
torture. And I have far more important things to accomplish tonight.
I lean close to the child now, resisting my urge to provide it with a physical
demonstration of my hatred for its race. "Your people are nothing more than
stupid, wasteful slave traders and mine..." I sweep my hand out roughly to
gesture at my growing brethren nearly swiping the child across the face in the
process. "Mine are strong, powerful and practically immortal. What do you think,
Bluesummers? Were our situations reversed, would it not have been fitting for my
species to utilize your species as sources of energy?" As chattel.
"Yes, Master." But a nagging thought plagues the child's mind.
~If you are stronger, why don't you just kill all the humans?~
I will ignore the creature's disobedience for the moment, because the question
provides me with an interesting opportunity. "Because, my Bluesummers, my people
were raised to believe in a naive contradiction: that all creatures must be
treated with kindness, regardless of how they treated us in return."
I do not even need to read the child's thoughts to measure the disgust with
which it views Rem Saverem's juvenile philosophy. Its face alone speaks volumes.
I am about to speak more on the subject of Rem's idiotic philosophy when I
remember the child's filthiness... and worst of all its smell. Even the
relatively well-washed humans on the SEEDS ship smelled like flowers and honey
compared to this creature's stench.
"Enough of this for now," I inform it as I turn from my sleeping brethren. "We
must get you into a bath." Pheh. And into some decent clothing too, I am afraid.
The rags my Bluesummers sports now will probably not last the rest of the week.
****
An hour later, the child has washed and dressed in one of my cast off uniforms.
The sight of the jumpsuit I wore one hundred years ago sagging like a half shorn
cocoon from Bluesummers' shoulders sickens me. And yet, seeing the creature's
flesh would be even more disgusting. I suppose life requires us all to make some
sacrifices now and then. Though he is relatively clean now, I could do little
with his hair. It now falls down his back in one unkempt tangle. Were it not for
the unusual color, I would say its hair resembled a dead thing. Blue hair and
golden eyes...not even Plants have such unusual features. It is all very
unnerving. What genetic error has caused such strange mutations in this boy?
Regardless of the answer, that long azure mop will be the first thing to go.
"You are going to hold very still as I do this," I explain as I drape a large
rag over the boy's narrow shoulders. Bluesummers remains still as I slide my
shears around a large, snarled lock and press them together.
Snip! The matted thing tumbles across my hand and lands indecorously on the
floor. Ugh. Bluesummer's first task will be cleaning up after his own filthy
hair, that is certain.
As my scissors cut away at days, if not months of neglect and sand, I am
transported to another place, a distant time that feels as immediate to me as
this very moment. It was the day I first realized that a wedge had been driven
between my beloved Vash and myself.
Ah, yes... I remember everything about that morning. I was aroused from a
restless and sheet tangling sleep by a gnawing premonition. It was a gut
feeling, a bowel and sweat feeling that inevitably informs one that one's life
is about to change irrevocably... and for the worse. Alert to this hidden
danger, I immediately reached for the twin sleeping at my side, as if to both
warn and protect him.
Seconds before my hands met only empty air and vaguely warm sheets, I knew. My
brother was no longer at my side. Panicking, I leapt out of bed and raced
through the ship's corridors, searching, calling, begging for my dear, dear
Vash. I was more terrified than I have ever been in my life. The walls around me
shrunk, elongated, twisted and changed shape into frightening mazes and
arabesques until finally I stumbled upon the rec room's door. Somehow I had
enough presence of mind to enter my password even as my throat and lungs began
to fill with a thick and sour phlegm. Hours later (or so it seemed to my
exhausted mind), the door slid open.
Oh...
Oh Vash... dearest brother. That bitch had cut your hair. What little remained
had been feathered around your face, making you look like some vapid page boy
out of a medieval Earth manuscript. You both seemed less shocked at my sudden
appearance than alarmed, but Rem covered nicely. Oh yes. As she carved away at
your head, she explained that it was time for a change. When she was finished
binding your hair like so much grain, you complained that it stuck up. She said
it reminded her of someone she loved. You said you wanted to be the one she
loved. She laughed at you, a gentle, motherly laugh that to my ears sounded no
less bitter and cruel than Steve's. It was as if a mirror had been shattered,
yet only I was cut by the falling fragments that still reflected your eyes, your
hair, the image of what you had been. The image of me.
I ran from that terrible place and took a pair of sheers to my own locks. I
ground the glass beneath my heel until it could no longer reflect anything. And
I swore that day that I would repay Rem Saverem for robbing you of your
strength.
Is it not fascinating how the sweetest revenge often comes later than we would
wish? Nearly one hundred and fifty years after the fall, I am given a young,
unusual boy. It came from out of nowhere and ran into me quite by chance. Other
human males wanted to kill it, but I allowed it to be saved. And now...
Now....
Rem Saverem, as my fingers slide through this child's hair, you can be thankful
for one thing. You taught me how to be a father, albeit in a way you would have
certainly abhorred. You cut my brother's hair just as I am cutting the hair of
my Bluesummers. You then blinded my brother to life's bitter realities -- nay,
to his own twin!-- and effectively turned him into nothing more than an
idealistic slab of meat. Are you happy, Rem? Are you happy that your beloved
'son' now daily feeds humans from his wounds? Are you proud of what you did to
him, you sadistic whore?
Be happy, Rem. True to your methods, I will blind him to life's realities, to
anything but service... only he will not serve you and your utopic wet dreams.
He will be an empty vessel whose walls will ring with the reverberation of his
own emptiness until the noise is so loud, mankind will have to hold its ears or
die.
And then, when I am finished, I will destroy him. And I will laugh as I do. At
you, at him, and at your stupidity.
Snip. The last lock of mangy hair falls from my child's neck. I cannot help but
smile at my results. Bluesummers' hair is still relatively long, and the bangs
sweep down elegantly over his left eye concealing at least one of the unnerving
lanterns from my sight. And yet, it is still long enough to give him a vaguely
rakish appearance. Oh yes. He will grow, soon enough, into a very handsome young
man.
"Do you like what I have done with it, Legato?" I murmur as I brush my fingers
through the creature's hair. To aid the child with its answer, my free hand
catches a nearby mirror and tilts it to his face. The glass catches the
sunlight, blinding us for the briefest of seconds, and then our twin reflections
blink back at us.
Legato answers instinctively. "Yes, Master."
"Good," I simply smile as I study the portrait. It looks vaguely familiar. "Very
good."
Then I lean down and plant a gentle kiss on Legato's shorn head.
.