"You little brat," a man says once, as Izayoi stands and grins and watches the police tow the bastard away. "I'll kill you."

Izayoi bites out a laugh, the sound made of knives. "Oi, oi, should you really be saying that in front of the police?"

The man lunges at Izayoi and the police hold him back; Izayoi smiles coldly as they leave. This is the third foster parent he's turned in, because he's eleven years old and bored bored bored and they're all bastards, anyway.

"Little freak," an officer mutters, and Izayoi's smile never slips an inch.

x

x

x

Here's a story, one Izayoi will never tell:

Once Upon A Time, like in the fairy tales no one ever read him, there was a man who adopted Izayoi. He was the head of a mafia, brilliant and bright-eyed, his smile knife-edge sharp. He laughed at Izayoi's sarcastic comments and showed him how to hack computers; at night, they sat together on the plush sofa and drank hot chocolate and read. It was… it was fun. Izayoi had fun. It was his seventeenth foster home and he was tired of different doorsteps, people, rooms; he was tired of being used and sent back, used and sent back. He was bored.

But this man- this man was kind, and Izayoi was stupid. He thought that maybe it could work.

Hack this computer, destroy that building, what do you think of these plans? You're brilliant, Izayoi, you really are.

Izayoi smirked. Of course I am.

But he never went after anyone but weaklings, and Izayoi got bored, acted out, took matters into his own hands.

And after that- well. Tools are only good if they're obedient.

"I can't use you after all, Izayoi."

Izayoi scowled, looked away. "Sending me back?"

"Yes. You are an asset, but you are not invaluable." He looked down at Izayoi. "I was getting tired of this family game, anyway."

Izayoi laughed and it did not shake. It sounded feral, sounded wild. He grinned fiercely, bared all his teeth, amethyst eyes glittering like knives in the light. "That's funny. So was I."

Screw it. Humans were all the same.

(What? No, of course he wasn't a human. He knew that already.)

The next day, he gathered evidence of his foster father's crimes. Sent them to television companies, to prosecutors.

The police came, and Izayoi left evidence scattered across the house. He smiled at his foster father, eyes cold, hands in his pockets, and watched the officers take the man away.

He was tired of the family game too.

x

x

x

That's the story.

He's eleven, now, and he's tired of all that crap. He's done.

No more trying.

x

x

x

Canaria is a breath of fresh air, like he's been drowning all his life and she's all the oxygen in the world. She's a breeze in the stale air, bringing newer, brighter things - blowing away dust and boredom, bringing in air and laughter and light and Izayoi inhales, smiles.

"If I win," she says, when they first meet, "I get a sharp-tongued son."

Izayoi frowns, and he's bored out of his mind, out of his skull. There is nothing in this world for him, no challenge, and he wants to scream because he wasn't made for this, the world can't fit him right when he's sharp edges and power too big for his small frame, too big to slot into the rules and lines of the earth. He doesn't fit right and he knows it, and some days he wants to shatter the world into millions of jagged bits because at least then he might fit in.

He agrees to her game because he has nothing better to do. It is the best decision he ever makes.

x

x

x

He's twelve and he's just destroyed the Iguazu dam, and he's laughing and delighted and the sky is dark and endless above him. For the first time, the very first time, the world doesn't look so dull.

But when Canaria tells him not to destroy things on simple whims, he finds himself agreeing to try.

x

x

x

It's four forty-five in the morning and they've both given up on sleep. They're sitting on their beds in their little rented motel room with blankets pooling around them and mountains of books in their laps, heater whirring noisily in the corner and frost creeping over the window, when Canaria speaks up.

"Izayoi-chan. Do you miss your family?"

Izayoi flips a page, scowls. "I don't have a family, stupid hag."

"Hm."

Izayoi glances up at her, and she's looking out the window with something strangely nostalgic in her expression. "Do you miss yours?"

Canaria laughs lightly. "A little."

"Go visit them."

"I can't."

"Dead?"

"Don't be so blunt, Izayoi-chan. I hope they're not."

"What were they like?"

Canaria hums. "Eccentric," she says. "Fun. You would've liked them."

"Sounds interesting."

She laughs. "They are."

x

x

x

"Happy birthday Izayoi-chan!"

"How did you-"

"I found your birth records in some private documents!"

"Hacking that is illegal, old hag."

"Are you really telling me that, Izayoi-chan?"

"Nn, I could turn you in, I've done it before-"

"Right, right-"

Warm arms around his neck, Canaria's soft laugh in his ear. "Happy birthday, Izayoi-chan."

It's the first time anyone has ever celebrated his birthday. It's the first time he's mattered enough for someone to care.

Izayoi isn't sentimental (he isn't, shut up, stupid smelly hag), but he throws his head back and laughs, leaning into Canaria's warmth.

"Thanks," he says, tongue almost tripping over the word. Canaria ruffles his hair, gentle and affectionate like a mother's touch.

They spend the day sampling food and visiting museums, and later Canaria surprises him by bringing out a truly massive chocolate cake. She's an idiot, and too loud, but-

-it's the best birthday he's ever had.

x

x

x

A year later the game ends. Canaria opens an orphanage and names it the Canaria Family Home; Izayoi thinks about a foster father and stupid dreams - I'm tired of this family game - and laughs.

"Izayoi-kun is my son now!" Canaria smiles, like this is something to be happy about, like she really wants him there. She throws an arm around his shoulder, comfortable and warm, and Izayoi leans his head against her shoulder, laughing, something aching and soft burning in his chest.

(Let's play a game, Canaria said once. And they played, and Izayoi lost, but this. This isn't a game.)

x

x

x

Suzuka is bright and innocent and filled with life, and Homura is everything that Izayoi could have been, or maybe everything that Izayoi could never ever have been. He's not sure.

They're great kids, though, the both of them, and Izayoi laughs and laughs and laughs and ruffles their hair and tells them that they can trust the hag, really. Suzuka has scars on her arms and Homura has old wounds in his eyes.

"She's an idiot," Izayoi says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "but she's fun."

"Fun doesn't mean trustworthy," Homura points out, and Izayoi smiles, shark-like.

"What's the fun of playing if she doesn't play by the rules?"

She doesn't cheat, Izayoi means. She plays fair. That's close enough to trustworthy that it counts.

Homura frowns, this tiny kid who's been abandoned by his parents before, and looks away. Izayoi shrugs. Homura's smart; he'll figure it out, eventually.

x

x

x

Here's something else that Izayoi will never tell:

He does everything himself because he can, because he must, because he's better and stronger and smarter- because he doesn't know how to rely on someone for something he can get on his own.

(Because stealing and betrayal and lies are common like pebbles on the ground but trust is a foreign concept, because he relied on people before and they walked away, because, because, because.)

Canaria is the only person he has ever asked for help.

x

x

x

"She'll adopt you if you let her," he tells Suzuka.

Suzuka's little head snaps up. She's lying on her stomach on her bed, book open in front of her, and Izayoi is leaning against the room's wall. "That's how stupid she is. So it's okay to trust her."

"If she thinks that adopting me is stupid-"

"Nah." Izayoi shrugs. "She won't."

"How do you know?"

Izayoi shoots her a grin, sharp like the razor edge of a blade. "She adopted me," he says.

And if that doesn't say it all.

x

x

x

Suzuka tackles Canaria later, yammering a mile a minute, and it's a strange way of testing someone but Izayoi's not going to complain.

Canaria, who hasn't failed a test before and isn't going to start now, beams delightedly and laughs on cue and tells stories and-

-"Oi, hag, shut the hell up. They don't need to hear my shitty childhood stories."

"I wanna hear!"

"See, Izayoi? Suzuka-chan would like to hear. Do you have something to hide?" Her smile is quicksilver. Izayoi laughs.

"Fine," he says. "The cost is two plates of dango."

"Right, right. So, Suzuka-chan, did you know Izayoi-kun was a real troublemaker when he was younger? He was in so many orphanages he lost count-"

"I didn't lose count, shitty hag, you just forgot-"

"I never forget, Izayoi-chan."

From the corner, Homura is watching with bright eyes. Izayoi knows better than to think that Canaria doesn't notice.

x

x

x

"Iza-nii," Suzuka calls, a few months later. Izayoi's eyes widen, something cold curling around his heart, something warm blooming in his lungs.

"Oi, oi," he says, taking Canaria's mask smile for himself, "what's with that, huh?"

"Canaria's your mother and she adopted us, so you're our older brother!"

"Is that how it works?"

"Obviously!"

Izayoi laughs. "That's fine, then."

x

x

x

On his fifteenth birthday, Suzuka tackles him in the hall. Homura presents him with a Celestial Globe that Canaria helped him make, and Canaria cooks pancakes for breakfast. She brings the three of them to an astronomy tower, that night, and they pick out the big dipper, Orion's belt, the north star.

Suzuka grips Izayoi's hand tight, Homura leans against his side, and Canaria rests a hand on his shoulder. Izayoi feels something wild in him settle, and they all stand together, small and bright beneath a sky of darkness and stars.

x

x

x

"Iza-nii," Homura says, watching him with dark eyes.

Izayoi laughs and laughs and ruffles Homura's hair. "Yeah."

x

x

x

Homura and Suzuka return from school with bruises. A few hours later Izayoi corners three men, teeth bared like knives and eyes like ice.

"What do you think you were doing to those little siblings of mine?"

He doesn't kill them. Not quite.

It becomes common knowledge: Do not pick on the children of the Canaria family home, because Sakamaki Izayoi will tear your throat out.

x

x

x

Canaria dies.

Canaria dies and Izayoi laughs like the world is ending, picks fights with thugs until he almost kills thirteen men and the police start taking notice of him again. (Blood on shaking hands and blood on his face and laughing like he wants to shatter worlds.)

Izayoi smiles like he's drawing knives and fists his hands, leashing power between white knuckles. He wants to bring the world to ash.

But Canaria has showed him mountains and seas, has shown him the reaches of human brilliance. She has put chains around him, careful, gentle, smiling the whole way - and Izayoi knew what she was doing the whole time, but he laughed and laughed and let her.

He trusted her, is the thing. He still does. She is the one person he will trust to never betray him, even if she uses him, even if she wraps him in chains. She could slit his throat and he would still be grateful to have met her. She saved him and chained him, she is the closest thing to love that Izayoi has ever known.

She's dead and Izayoi is alive, and still her words and lessons run through his muscles and bones. She has laid down boundaries and he will not cross them.

So he smiles, and throws pebbles that blow away whole fields, but he holds back. His lungs are bombs inside his chest but he lets them rip him apart, lets boredom eat him whole, unclenches his hands and lets them fall, empty, to his sides.

x

x

x

"If I could sell boredom, I'd make a fortune out of it," Izayoi says, a few moments before a letter falls from the sky.

x

x

x

(This is Canaria, when she takes in Izayoi as her own:

Wandering a new world, searching for ways to save her old community, dying bit by achingly slow bit. Finding a boy with the power to shatter worlds in his little hands, a child hiding in the mountains with hair like lightning and eyes like knives, so small against the storm.

Using him and grooming him to save her community, but loving him like a son, teaching him about life and games and kindness, softening his edges where before he was nothing but rage.

She dies before she can tell him that loneliness and boredom are not the same thing.)