He was a seven year old boy when she first saw him. Wearing a dirty white shirt and high-cut muddy sneakers, he looked rather tall for his age. So tall and strong and full of life. He had just gotten out of a small childish fight (that involved kids mocking his incredibly long hair...) sporting few cuts, a bruised cheek, scratches running across his arms and torn sleeve.
His face was dirty. Brown hair tousled with twigs and leaves. For a boy with strong features, a handsome face, extraordinarily onyx eyes and pale skin, it struck her unusual to see his muddy and scratched (his other cheek, the bruise-free one, had long scratches).
Nevertheless, she thought he was a dream. A nice mirage of her daydreams. Her fascination increased when he smiled toothily.
"Hey, thanks so much!" here said happily, skipping towards her. He lowered his knees to reach her chin. "Wow, you're cute!" he chirped sassily.
She recalled blushing. Lots of people said the same thing but they never made her blush. ...now, that was strange.
A frown graced her face. "...you're dirty."
His eyes blinked, "...yes." And he smiled.
Seeing his smile, again, increased her fascination. She never saw such smile. A smile that made her happy. Something strong and raw blossomed inside of her.
"I like your smile."
He stared at her, bewildered. "...thanks."
"I want to hear it every day."
He was speechless.
"So," she paused, her frown deepening. "Marry me someday."
His eyes widened.
But he smiled again. This time, it was a solemn smile.
"I'll wait for that someday, then."
And that day, he started to like her.
But several days later, Ives Massacre occurred. Her heart died along with her family. Her dreams died. That day, her sole purpose changed from something simple to something destructive.
"Revenge."
"I will kill you."
"My dream is to kill a certain man."
And she wiped the memory of the boy she promised to marry someday.
"I am an Avenger."
One day after her family was buried, she saw him again. He rushed to her and said, "Are you okay, Van-"
"Go away." She said coldly.
Pain crossed his face but he forced a smile. "I have something for you."
She gave him an annoyed look. Before she could snap another cold retort, she felt her pressed something onto her hand.
"Keep it." He said.
She looked up uninterestedly.
"Please."
Pause.
A long pause.
"I don't need this."
"I know."
She scowled.
"But just... keep it. Please."
She was tempted to crush the white paper boat or shred it in front of him. But she predicted if she did, he'll go into a crying spree and that will be very annoying.
To make him stop pestering her, she tucked the paper boat into her pocket and left him.
She was twelve years old when she received his sixty eighth paper boat.
He was smiling at her brightly, hiding the pain. Just to make him stop bothering her, she took the paper boat from his palm and shoved it rather roughly inside her pocket. She knew he saw her just shove it like some piece of shit but he gave another smile and proceeded into bonking Victor in the head for greeting a loud 'good morning'.
That same year, as a birthday present, he gave her ten paper boats, very unlike of him for he usually give her at least one paper boat in a day or in a week.
"It's your birthday, that's why." he said.
It was December when she received his seventy sixth paper boat. She was walking home when she thought on why Ethan gives her paper boats. It was a useless. Insignificant. Just a strip of paper folded into a boat.
As an Ives, she knew what things to consider special. Definitely, a paper boat was not something to value.
But she mentally socked herself. Moron.
If they were something of no value, then why did she even bother to keep them all these years? From the first down to the seventy sixth. She felt stupid for keeping those but strangely; she just can't bring herself into throwing them.
As a matter of fact, she often found himself counting them.
She was thirteen when he stopped giving her paper boats. It was the year when she chose to run off to Antarctica, power-hungry, vengeful and stupid.
That year, she became a missing serial killer- a traitor. She vaguely realized that someday, Ethan will be ordered to kill her in sight.
Kill her without remorse. Kill her without hesitation.
But she shrugged it off.
So what?
Her sole purpose, after all, was to kill a certain person. An Avenger. A traitor. A Missing Serial Killer.
Nothing else mattered. Except to see Victoria's death.
She left everything behind.
But brought along her dagger and the 176 paper boats.
