Attacca ─ Five Hargreeves

25. The Ones We Leave Behind

It wouldn't be the first, nor would it be the last. It was probably an obsolete proclivity when dealing with Genevieve Kilday. And Nikolai would do it over and over again if that was all it took to spare her the distress. He knew he had lied to his sister too many times, but he was endowed with the aptitude to read situations more keenly than most. It wasn't special, he wished he was part of something super, but whatever he had was enough to keep his family safe. There was a reason why he hadn't blocked the secret couloir to the basement, and the moment he heard the alarm go off, indicating someone crossing it, he just knew he had to fabricate the truth again.

Because truthfully, yes, Nikolai had been waiting for another version of Genevieve, and he had indeed met the woman she had spoken of, a few days before her arrival.

Late at night, rehearsals had finished later, busier as the days of the concert approached. In all honesty, Nikolai wasn't as enthusiastic as the other orchestra members, after all this wasn't something he prioritised. The City didn't need a burlesque, they needed safety. There were no more Umbrella Academy kids to help or Reginald Hargreeves who could secure the inviolability of the City with his eccentric ways, but there was him, he could do enough to make civilians not have to sweat blood at work or feel aghast strolling the pavement at night.

However, his mother had constantly averred him to discover something new to do. Apparently, burying himself in the lab or Shogi games every Sunday was not the kind of escapade she approved of, and if she found out what he was doing in the shadows, she would probably lock him away in one of the vaults scattered around.

But Grace had to understand, she was the one who made a show of not letting their guard down any time, she was a living example of why he needed to always be a few steps ahead, always on guard against everyone. She put a beacon on their backs the moment she worked with Reginald Hargreeves years ago, and then resolved to infuse the analeptic serum in Genevieve's body years later.

Grace only had him to defend her now, the research team she once had, had dispersed since they moved around so much, she lost her authority over the Observatory she built herself, as well as her sophisticated groundwork. She had lost the battle, she was lost. But he was still here and he refused to bow out, he was his mother's only chance, that was why he took matters into his own hands in his own way.

Nikolai was aware that the government was still tailing, watching their every move ever since the accident with Genevieve, and had retrieved innumerable scientific discoveries that were considered hazardous and threatening in his mother's name, so it was no surprise to see an unknown woman with splashy frost hair, a briefcase in hand, dressed in all black, sitting in his office, taking a laggard drag on her quellazaire. He thought the woman was one of the state people, in a way she was, but not in the council he knew on a day-to-day basis.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were one of Reginald Hargreeves' casualties," the woman started, fume spilled in the aerial, "with those impressive stealth moves and fighting skills, you could make the finest agent in my organisation."

It was offensive on his part, the last thing he wanted to be associated with was that old man.

The woman barked a crazed laugh. "Oh, dearie. Not a man of many words, I see, my bad."

"If you're the family of one of those bastards I killed, just so you know, I have no regrets," he stated coldly, moving further into the room to gather his stuff, "they deserved to die."

"Well, yes, everyone deserves to die," she commented coyly, "but some people are just too stubborn to sanction the virulent truth."

Nikolai had a long day.

There would be an exchange of information about the plot to assassinate the owner of a Chinese restaurant near the downtown avenue, he loved the food there, and his lunch break was consistently spent around the building. The owner was perfectly collegial and generous enough to feed the homeless every single day, but since the tavern was doing well, it attracted some jealousy. Yet nobody cared about it, none of them preferred to quell the covetousness, no one wanted to step in to forfend the tender owner, they just turned a blind eye and walked away. But he saw that, though. And he could help, the owner had done nothing wrong, those bitter people were.