⚜ ❝ℱather's Asphodel❞

chapter two

Five arrived in front of the academy doors around two hours later, 8pm sharp. His legs became a bit sore with how long he had insisted to walk. Not wanting to be dependent on vehicles, trying his best to get rid of the awful heartache.

His styled hair got a bit damp from sweat. The night wind blew his coat up briefly, making him realize just how freezing he's been feeling throughout the walk here.

"Damn wind." he hisses, finally giving in to the coat's hugeness. Willing the cold to leave him alone before knocking the wooden door,  expectations rising steadily with each passing second.

His first step into his plan is to meet his old man, convince him into a partnership and hopefully— Continue further from there.

There's no telling what will happen. His father could very much decline Five's offer. Leaving the young brunette with nothing else but the more roguish choices toward his goal.

Killing was his forte, but even he knew that their father's sudden disappearance would raise questions.

Hopefully his father wouldn't force him into taking such actions. One reason being that Five wasn't ready for rejection; the outcome.

I'll make sure he takes it. One way or another. Five patiently waits for a minute and half after his first series of knocking. The second one however, he presses his knuckles more firmly on the wood, making it sound more urgent.

Strange. There shouldn't be any training at 8pm. It's almost dinner time and he knew his father would lose his mind if they were late for even a second. No training meant free time for both his mother and Pogo, they should be more alarmed.

Feeling rather exhausted (and in a way—   abandoned) outside after more than half an hour. He took it upon himself to blink inside the space of his father's familiar work office. He considered the paperworks and books strung about. None of the children have ever ventured far enough into the right-wing, so the serene calm stretching far and wide from the space to the space over the doors weren't at all strange.

Five had blinked to every room the place has to offer back when he was barely a teen. Ecstatic with the abilty to fuck around and get out without his father coming to punish him.

Though Five had always had the sneaking suspicion that his father knew. With how paranoid his old man is. If the hidden surveillance cameras were any indication.

 Pogo checked the tapes daily, from what Five has seen in a different timeline.

That timeline was the most memorable. Being his first, after all.

Truth spilled out of their family like a broken dam during his stay there. He remembered being childish and feeling frustrated after the hospital's explosion. He drank himself to sleep, hands tight around Delores, gambling between getting poisoned, killed by the strong alcohol and finding himself stuck somewhere in Cuba, disoriented in someone's backyard from a drunken blink.

Perks of being under the influence is becoming more creative.

Curious fingers tap on the spines of books. Memory lane bringing him to a halt on the research papers that he has never seen before. There were equations etched to them, something that Five could work with.

I can offer my knowledge. He realizes. Stopping his insistent tapping, bending his long legs to take the papers from the half open drawer in front of his father's worktable. The maths were pretty easy, Five has had ample time to sharpen his genius in between the calm while in different timelines. He most likely is able to answer anything at this point. Five jots that down in his mind for preparation of his father. Just another thing he adds to the list of things he could do in order to share half his old man's 'parental' decisions.