Chapter 4: XXXI-XL 1/2

Author's Note : Ever write a story then have to pause and argue with the characters because they want to do things that will probably kill them? That's why AYBABTU is on hold, both Kakashi and Hermione are being suicidal little idiots trying to get into things well over their current ability to deal with. So instead I worked on this story even though I had wanted to keep both more or less at similar chapter lengths. Alas…

Edited (4/24/2017) - General corrections

Edited (3/17/2018) - Final formatting and minor corrections.

Edited (9/2/2018) - Minor corrections.

Russian Roulette : Reloaded

XXXI-XL

XXXI (Saturday the 21st of January, 1961. Mafia Land.)

Much to Sonya's delight, and Tatiana's not-silent-enough despair, there was a bookstore in Mafia Land's central shopping complex.

The shop looked to be a frequent traveler's store for paper items from all the port cities that serviced the island, holding everything from newspapers shipped in from around the world to popular fiction or nonfiction novels one might want to read on vacation. Given it was also a store run by former or current members of the mafia, it even had what looked to be gun manuals near the back next to cookbooks and a couple chemistry texts.

"We're going to a clothing store after this, you little bookworm." The older preteen warned her foster sister as she followed her into the brightly lit store. "Besides, where are you even going to put more books? We have weight limits on our luggage, and you're running out of room at home."

"Cherep will help, and these books I can't get at home." She ignored the question, valid as that concern was. Some of her books were now residing under her foster brother's bed, because Tatiana wouldn't hold them in her room unless they were useful enough for her to use every now and again.

The shop also had a couple mechanical handbooks on tanks, jeeps, and motorcycles, and she snagged one blindly to give to Cherep when they went back for the night… or when they went to drop off their shopping when it got too heavy.

She took some time looking through the cookbooks, because she found one that detailed a way to use basic kitchen supplies in everything from smoke bombs to a crude tear gas. It gained a snort from the feisty redhead, who decided that there was a book she'd rather like to have and took it from her.

The real target Sonya was after turned out to be a mafia child's storybook that looked to have been written a century ago. It was also in French, apparently just because the author wanted it to be.

There was no foreword to tell her where the story took place or was recorded from, nor what region of the world she might investigate for more stories or different versions.

Skimming through it, stripped of all the flowery terms and obvious pro-mafia propaganda, it left her with a very basic grasp on the various Flame elements and what made them up. The Classic or Hard types anyways, not the Inverted or Soft ones, but she might be able to puzzle that out herself.

She was also pretty sure there were more than the usual seven types, but damn if she could recall them. Something, something, Earth Flames at least...

Her quick look-through also reconfirmed her original thoughts, that she wasn't a Sky, Mist, or Rain. Harmony, Illusions, and Tranquility did not fit into the only example she knew of what she could do… but it was still an iffy thing given her physical youth and inexperience. Probably not her main type, if she had a secondary type to fuss with too. Which left her with Classic Lightning, Sun, Cloud, and Storm, and possibly five out of the seven Inverted as well, which the story book had cardboard cutout characters molded after.

Very flat characters. A nice and caring Sky that Harmonized, enthusiastic Sun with Activation, calm Rain with Tranquility, fixated Storm with Disintegration, deceptive Mist with Illusions, reckless Lightning with Hardening, and an aloof Cloud with Propagation.

Which was all only one facet of any Dying Will Flame user in the most obvious and overt ways, and most of which she already knew.

While nice to get solid and written confirmation on that, Sonya would have to take a longer in-depth look to see what would explain the unnatural strength she had. For while trying to learn to shatter wooden and metal poles on command was interesting in its own way, the sprained wrists and shrapnel that resulted on occasion were tedious to try and avoid and it was always rather painful to suffer through.

There had to be a less destructive way to figure it out, because she hadn't seen a hint of oddly colored fire yet that would let her guess and pure strength wasn't a specific trait of any one Flame type.

Activation might be it, if Sun flames could enable one to use more of the muscle than the percentage normal humans used at any one time. Propagation could do it, if she was using Cloud Flames to boost either her muscle mass or the force behind her swings. Lighting and Storm were possibilities, if she was doing anything to the staffs she had been using without being able to see herself do it by either Hardening the staff or Disintegrating whatever encountered it… if she was willing to stretch her disbelief a bit.

If she really wanted to, she could even make a case for using Mist flames in a non-typical way to convince everyone and herself that she did destroy everything she had. She really hoped not, but it was a possibility.

Staring at the book probably wasn't the best idea ever too, given that Arseniy didn't seem to want her to spread her little talent with breaking things around outside of their group. Instead of spending the time to puzzle over it in the store, she added the book to the pile of them she already had going.

There were a couple more in different languages, aimed more for teens and younger adults, so those were added in almost as an afterthought.

"Find anything good?"

"A couple things to read on our way back, maybe." Answered the no-longer-as tiny thief absently, still looking for anything else that might help her. There had to be something better than children stories, even if they were mafia ones, that she might be able to make a comparison with.

"Anything that reminds you of that… friend of ours?"

That was an odd enough question it pulled her attention to her older foster sister, who had an irritated expression on her face at odds with the light tone of voice.

"One thing so far." The younger informed her elder sister with a shrug, using the distraction to see what had the other girl's back up.

Oh.

They were being discreetly spied on by the clerk, possibly because they were mafia brats and shoplifting wasn't a particularly rare crime for them.

Another possibility, much to her paranoid imagination, anyone picking up books on Dying Will Flames were watched for if they were in possession of the Flames or not. Which would be a nice convenient way to look for users, and it was possible the information would sell for a bit if everything that pointed to Flame users being currently rare was as correct as she suspected.

Any further information she was looking for probably had to be asked for, which may or may not work and would probably put her on someone's watch list.

To risk it or not?

She considered the few books that might have the answers she was looking for, then back to the bookcase she had been pursuing.

If she needed more information after checking what she already had, it would probably be better to ask Arseniy for it. He could decide what to do, because she didn't know what was safe to risk or not. The vor had a better grasp on the underworld's movements and would probably continue to have it until after she finally made a stupid mistake to learn otherwise.

Mistakes in the underworld typically ended in one's death.

She didn't intend to make any mistakes that could be prevented with a dash of caution, she had a fair bit to do before she would be content to die again. However, that was intent-based.

Mistakes were… well, mistakes.

"How hard do you think teaching Cherep French will be?"

Tatiana's eyebrow rose in silent question, prompting Sonya to show her the storybook she pulled out first.

It was as good as any cover story, if questioned.

"…good luck with that. I'll give you the fact he's decent with mathematics, but his grammar on the other hand…"

"That's not his fault, it's his Czech accent that makes him sound funny to us."

She hummed noncommittally, which was ruined by the slow creeping smirk crawling up the redhead's face.

"Oh, shut up. Where did you want to go after this?"

Her smirk grew a touch evil looking.

The clerk that had been trying to covertly keep an eye on what they were poking at and overhear their conversation eventually hurried them out, just so he didn't have to hear everything the older girl knew of current European fashions.

Given Sonya didn't really want to know either, as it was the early 60's when the hippy-bohemian look had yet to become popular and afros were fast becoming a thing everyone wanted to have, she tuned Tatiana out as well.

XXXII (Saturday the 21st of January, 1961 continued. The Zolotov Condo, Mafia Land.)

"Do you know how to swim?" Sonya asked Cherep even as she handed a book to him and dumped the rest of the bags she had on her bed.

He looked highly amused to be automatically handed a stack of wire bound paper the moment his foster sisters returned from checking out what shopping they could visit in range of their hotel. "Yeah, why?"

"Cause there's a beach here, silly." Tatiana dropped all six of her shopping bags on the twin bed the girls were sharing, whirling around to grin at her younger roommates. "It's mostly used by families with younger children really, but still a beach. I don't know how to swim, and Sonya ever so thoughtfully volunteered herself to teach me how."

"There's also all the women that want a nice tan to show off when they go back to wherever." She chipped in absently, searching through the redhead's new piles of clothing to find the swimsuits they had picked out. "And, if Cherep doesn't want to swim, there's always the boardwalk to explore or the amusement park… but I'd suggest we go as a group for that one."

He gave her an unimpressed glare, and she had to suppress the desire to smirk.

Wet-cat had nothing on that expression.

"You can't stay cooped up here all three days. You'll drive yourself up a wall or two and take the rest of us with you."

"Watch me." Even as he said it, Cherep's face twisted into a distracted frown. "It'd be nice to go swimming again…"

"Sonya learned in Saratov, in the river. I can't imagine how cold that had to be."

"It wasn't bad, just… smelly." The industrial revolution might have tapered off, and the start of the environmental concerns might be making a small dent into the amount of pollution being produced, but her biological birthplace was still a port city.

Sonya didn't really want to think what might have been in the water that one time she took a dip in it when her biological father decided to ensure she wouldn't ever drown by teaching her even if she already knew. It wasn't like she could've told the man she already knew how, explaining the whys of that would've been difficult.

"Come on, you can laugh at all the seawater Tatiana's about to gulp down and we'll go find something greasy and fast to eat afterwards. We'll be back before dusk, when all the really interesting things are supposed to start."

"She means before all the really immoral and fun things start to happen." Tatiana mock-whispered, swiping the swimming suit she had picked out from the other thief's fingers. "Alas."

The younger girl rolled her grey eyes, shoving a pair of swim shorts at Cherep. "She's mad I said no to her bar hopping idea."

"It's a good idea!"

"It's not."

The redhead flounced to the door connecting their rather lavish bedroom to a bathroom, tossing a sniff over her shoulder at them. "We're legally allowed to drink here, so why-"

"We're not legal here, there just aren't any laws here." She interrupted her pointedly. "Just because you can doesn't mean you should. I'm sure if we ask nicely, Lisa or Arseniy will let us drink at home. At least that way we can be home and hungover rather than try to navigate a new place drunk off our asses while hoping everything goes okay."

Cherep blinked at her blankly a few times, even as their sister came to a sudden halt before reaching the bathroom's threshold. "Really?"

Sonya gave the purple haired and eyed boy a disgusted look in return for the utterly disproving expression aimed at her before turning to their elder. "I'm pretty sure of it, since Lisa told us to ask them if we ever wanted to experiment with things like that."

"When was this?"

"Couple years ago, a few months after I met Cherep."

Tatiana opened her mouth, shut it slowly after a moment of hard thought, and then shook her head before she started speaking. "How… why… why do you recall that? I'm pretty sure I remember something along those lines, but… I forgot about it like a day later."

"Because you have the attention span of a gnat when you're interested in something. That was a little after they started us on safecracking, remember? You loved it and spent most if not all of your free time cracking practice safes when not forced to do something else."

"It's one of the rare few things I'm better at than you." She informed her haughtily, hand on her hip and a smirk on her lips. "I was fascinated with the novelty of such an event."

"I think I might have liked it better when we were ignoring each other."

"Don't listen to her." Cherep spoke up suddenly, softly smacking Sonya upside the head. Which she let happen, as she didn't understand the sudden tension in the room and hoped he had some idea. "She's just cranky you were going to have the last word."

Tatiana's smirk, which had dropped a little, returned full force as she spun around and finally entered the bathroom to change. "You're a doll, Cherep."

"The hell was that for?"

"Rude much?" He rolled his eyes at her when she glared at him. "Stop that, you are disturbing when you pout."

Sonya smoothed out any expression from her face. "I'm not pouting, I'm miffed."

"Same difference. Small hint for you, Sonya. Don't bring up that ignoring thing, Tatiana's a little embarrassed over that."

"Why?"

Cherep gave her the flattest stare she had ever seen from him. "You know that social incompetence she likes to tease you over? I don't think it was a joke."

"…I'm going to drown you."

"No, you're not. I'm going to sit in here and read while you teach Tatiana to swim, and maybe tomorrow I'll go with you to the beach if nothing happens to either of you."

XXXIII (Sunday the 22nd of January, 1961. Mafia Land.)

Lisa woke them all up just before dawn the next day, flicking the lights on without care for what eyes she might burn with them. "Up, all of you. Yes you, Cherep. You need to come with us this time."

A few months of living with them under his belt enabled him to at least wait until their foster mother was out of the room to ask, "Why?"

"Lisa told us last night, but you were already asleep by then." Tatiana informed him groggily, rubbing a fist against her eye as she rolled out of her side of the bed. "We're supposed to get medical checkups and vaccinations boosters this morning. Oh joy."

"Normally Lisa does this at home, but since we're here I guess we are doing this now." Agreed Sonya, dragging herself over to her luggage only to stub her toe on one of the redhead's purchases from the previous day. "The hell is in this, rocks?"

"Shoes."

"My toes don't see the difference, Tatiana."

"At least they aren't books."

Their brother muffled a snort, grabbing a change of clothing and shuffling over to the bathroom in order not to follow in the physically youngest thief's footsteps in stubbing something. "Ladies, let's not force Lisa to come back and hurry us up. Please."

She grudgingly decided he had a point, since the older woman was never nice about it if she had to wake them or encourage them to get moving more than once. Dropping the only half-formed complaint she had been about to fire back, she instead stripped and dressed herself in the more comfortable of what clothing she had with. "Think we're doing vaccinations now or when we get back?"

"I hope back, if only to ensure the boat ride home will be merely miserable because I hate boats and not because we're all sick." Blinking at the closed doors separating them from their only recently acquired foster brother, Tatiana lightly nudged her shoulder blade to gain her attention. "Has Cherep ever gotten his vaccinations done?"

"Err… I hope he has, or he's going to be miserable for a good week." Given his history, she rather thought not.

Depending on how much time he had to himself before she ever spotted his oddly purple hair, it was likely he had gone without medical aid for a couple years. Add that all to the fact she thought very little of his parents, who had gotten scared of their good fortune to have a child that was unkillable when their incompetence had resulted in his initial death in the first place, meant she was rather sure he had gone five or six years without actual doctors looking over his health.

Normally, the Zolotov thieves had their medical records fudged by a registered nurse that came around every couple of months.

The man fabricated incidents that would explain away the usual and frequent training injuries they incurred, a broken wrist from a botched job turned into a fall off a playground jungle gym and the broken glass scars from smashing an inconvenient window turned into a fall into broken bottles instead. The point being all the fostered Mafiya brats she knew of had actual medical records… even if most of the background information in it was pure bullshit.

However, Cherep likely didn't have any medical records either. Or at least, no where that they could hope to make use of them.

Thankfully they were in Mafia Land, which had a fully functioning hospital. Most of the Zolotov used vaccines were taken from them, and they likely supplied most of the underworld with them and other medical services as well. In a hospital like that, hopefully being asked to fake a record for one orphaned boy wasn't going to be too odd.

"Erm… so…"

Sonya turned back to look at her foster sister shifting in place uneasily. "What?"

Tatiana threw up her hands in exasperation, then snagged her tiny purse with the money the girls had pooled to afford the things they wanted to purchase here. "Never mind. Let's go see what Lisa has in mind for breakfast."

XXXIV (Sunday the 22nd of January, 1961 continued. Saint Julian's Hospital, Mafia Land.)

Even with the head start, it still took them several hours to clear out of the mafia run hospital.

Although the adults merely needed a checkup each, the children they were nominally in charge of only had basic incident reports and one had absolutely nothing in the way of medical reports. Height, weight, teeth oddly, a few x-rays, reflex testing, hearing checks, eye exams, tailoring several years of medical reports into a full medical file on each of them, and then recording various other bits and bobs took a bit of time each.

Sonya felt a bit like a horse after it was over.

However, mostly, it was Cherep's fault it took so long.

In between the blood testing to check what antibodies he had already and after the x-rays to check his bone structure, the doctor he was assigned to then found the long-healed cracks in his vertebra from when he broke his neck years ago. Then the fact he seemed to have broken his left arm and several fingers only a few years prior, a couple ribs showing suspiciously old damage like they had caved in, and some very odd results in his blood test needed some open-minded consideration of surviving what should've been beyond fatal poisoning attempts.

She got to return the favor of a bruise in the shape of a hand, clutching her foster brother's arm hard enough so the brat didn't bolt like a guilty person. While Arseniy confirmed he knew of the neck incident and that was one of the reasons why the purple haired boy was with them now and not where he once was.

Mafia people weren't nice people, but when they had standards like the doctor that looked perfectly willing to murder the much larger Russian vor if he had been the cause of the boy's old injuries… things tended to get ugly real fast unless you had a very good excuse or could point them in another direction.

Lisa's pinched features kept Tatiana from asking questions while they were waiting for a medical history to be tailored to their foster brother's old healed injuries so any civilian doctor who investigated or read it wouldn't have a stroke, but Sonya wasn't stupid enough to hope no questions would be eventually asked.

When they were finally done at the hospital, the undead Cloud now possessing a new medical history that was only half bullshit and the rest of them updating theirs with Lisa collecting a box of vaccinations and booster shots that would need to be taken as soon as they got home, Arseniy gave her a look that basically asked if she thought he was an idiot.

She really could only indicate the boy himself, who was stiffly moving and paper-white. He was also not looking at anyone else in his stupid procrastination protest/fear of their reaction thing she had yet to figure out a reliable way to address without spooking him. Then she shrugged, to inform him she probably didn't know much more than he now did.

Which was pretty much the truth, since he hadn't informed her much beyond the whole first death incident and the basics of how he got to Moscow in the first place.

Noticeably, Cherep had left out exactly why he knew full well his death-defying ability would continue regardless of any 'special skill' he had been eventually stolen for… or why his parents knew that fact, or how many shady doctor types learned, or how long and how bad his kidnapping incident had been before getting himself free.

Which probably meant he had been killed a couple more times after that first time, but if Sonya ever learned who did it she would probably either tell Arseniy or that doctor the full truth as far as she had put together… or hunt the assholes down herself.

Probably one death from the incident that resulted in his previously broken ribs, a couple more times from the chemicals still lingering in his bloodstream, and any number of other methods that wouldn't show up if allowed to heal a month or more. Yet her best friend was alive, and not talking about it.

They had proof of that avoidance in Arseniy's hands.

The vor snorted, a sound which jolted the younger boy out of his head given his panicky look at him, then rolled his shoulders as if shaking off some thought. "You peredniki have until noon, then get back to the hotel."

"We'll be visiting the Thieves' Hall after lunch." Lisa tacked on rather blandly, padding off after him when the man abruptly split off from them at the hospital's front steps.

"Cherep… if you want to stay in the hotel room you should follow them." Sonya prompted after an awkward moment, because Tatiana looked as if she dearly wanted to ask and the blonde wasn't sure if he wanted to deal with that or not or if the redhead had enough tact to wait until they were home.

"Or we could go check out the boardwalk." The preteen safecracker proposed with a fake and bright grin. "You did promise."

"I didn't promise anything… just that I might think about it if you survived your own adventure." Cherep hastily corrected her tightly, slowly unbending his spine the longer they waited on him to decide instead of asking or pushing him into something he might not want to do. "But… that sounds good."

He was still a little too wide-eyed for her to believe he was anything approaching remotely comfortable, so she gestured to the direction they would have to go to find the beachfront stores. "Whenever you're ready."

"Mmm, didn't you also want to check out the weapons on sale around here?" Gesturing behind them to where the road the hospital was on led further into the island, Tatiana painfully didn't bring attention to how long it was taking their brother to decide on what he was going to do. "We could always go take a look or browse a bit… but you know most of what's here is probably hitman supplies. Guns, bullets, knives, poisons, and those sorts of things."

"Probably yeah, but I just want something that won't break apart on me after a few hours work and that's specific enough I hope there's some kind of store already here with what I want."

Cherep muttered something along the lines of 'I'd rather see tacky tourist shops', seizing Sonya's wrist and starting off in the direction she had given him. Their older foster sister followed them with a more natural sounding giggle.

XXXV (Sunday the 22nd of January, 1961 continued. Mafia Land.)

They returned to the hotel with little time to spare, Cherep clutching a massive black teddy bear almost the same size as him Sonya bought just because it was something for him to maul without leaving her with more bruises… or her punching him for the repeated manhandling.

They also had a massive assortment of candy that she was planning on not being around for when they finally ate it.

Said over-sized teddy bear ended up occupying a chair of its own during their Asian inspired lunch, guarding all the sugar they had acquired. Arseniy having left again for whatever business he was here for allowing them to put the stuffed doll in his spot much to Lisa's visible amusement.

The woman was much more settled than she had been by the end of their trip to the hospital, making the blonde cautiously guess the vor filled her in a little with what he knew of the boy's situation. Otherwise the brunette would be a breath away from glaring at her, for the imagined crime of keeping pertinent information from them.

Which she was still doing because while she might know Cherep was probably a Dying Will Flame user himself with their generation's strongest, if Soft/Inverted/whatever meant opposite than 'normal', Cloud nature… she had no way to prove it just yet.

She'd rather like to keep going on with that too. If she had no proof, she wasn't technically keeping things from them and therefore possibly able to get in trouble for it.

If her foster brother was going to be that Skull de Mort in a few years, the Zolotovs might really want him to be firmly under their thumbs before he could skate by on mere technicalities of only be 'aligned' with the Russian Mafiya. Even the weakest of the Arcobaleno would be a very important chess piece to control, they wouldn't be called the 'World's Strongest' without validation, especially since two or three of them would end up in Vongola hands before long and another was spoken for by the Triads.

The thought was probably entirely treasonous in a way and probably not what good Mafiya girls did, she didn't care.

Again, Cherep was hers first. Everyone else could go screw themselves, even if everyone else included the Mafiya syndicate that prevented her from finding out what a childhood of slavery was like.

She already almost compulsively stole for them. That would have to be enough to show her loyalty to the Zolotovs.

After they finished lunch Lisa gave Cherep the option of going with them, but he refused rather neatly claiming he needed a nap and instead stalking up to the suite of rooms they were using dragging the massive stuffed animal and the rest of the girls' shopping after him. Their foster mother didn't seem to mind too much, beckoning both younger thieves after her as she left the path leading to their hotel.

Sonya wasn't sure what she was expecting from something called 'The Thieves' Hall', and she wasn't sure if she found what she had been expecting or not.

It looked like a regular office building… but given that normal looking façade in a place called Mafia Land obviously something was off about either it or her worldview.

They were show in by the doorman, who probably doubled as a guard/bouncer, Lisa exchanged a greeting and a bit of gossip with what looked to be a secretary that sounded just odd enough to make her assume it was code or insider habit.