Arcane: Decaying Love.

The lights flickered in the cold, damp room. Two gangsters held down a trembling stall owner, pressing his head to the blood-streaked floor. Sweat mixed with the gore pooling beneath him, and his wide, terrified eyes flicked to the smaller figure perched on the edge of a rickety table.

Shigaraki sat with his legs crossed, wrapped in a black cloak that flowed like a shadow. His pale blue hair cascaded from the hood, contrasting sharply with the black enforcer mask designed to match the cloak. He scratched his nails against the table in a steady rhythm, producing an ominous echo that resonated with the merchant's irregular breaths.

"Pl-please... I'll pay! I didn't know this was your territory!" the merchant stammered, his voice breaking.

"It's not mine," Shigaraki replied, his voice calm but eerily cold. "It's Silco's. You could've crossed anyone, but you shouldn't have crossed my father."

The room was quiet except for the sound of Shigaraki's nails scratching. 

Four years had passed since the transformation, and Shigaraki was now nine and fully embraced his new identity. Tenko was no more…Yet, his choice of clothing held onto something dear. He wasn't motivated by a desire for notoriety or reputation. Nor was his attire designed to instill fear, despite how it often ended up. For Shigaraki, the mask and cloak were deeply personal, a reminder of the world he had left behind, where costumes marked heroes and villains. 

The merchant was left in a panic. He knew this was Silco territory, and he often paid, but today, he had just gotten his new inventory robbed by a competitor and tried to be sneaky. Instead, he was caught here… His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, and then…

Knock, knock.

A sudden noise at the door surprised everyone in the room. The two gangsters quickly released the stall owner and stepped back as the door opened. Silco entered, his keen gaze scanning the scene right away. Chez, Tripp, and the promising new recruit, Deckard, followed him.

Silco's sharp gaze shifted from the blood-stained floor to the shaking merchant and then to the two gang members standing uncomfortably off to the side. At last, his eyes settled on Shigaraki, who stood frozen, his hand caught in a scratch on his neck. This was a nervous tic that Silco recognized all too well.

"You're scratching again," Silco said softly. His voice was calm, but the weight of his disapproval made the gangsters shrink further into themselves.

Shigaraki caught himself, pulling his hand away, and laughed bitterly beneath his mask. "Dad, I get itchy when I'm nervous."

"Oh, nervous is a sign of guilt? Do you understand what you did wrong then?" Silco inquired.

"Guilt? I'm helping you-" Shigaraki began, his frustration spilling over.

"Shigaraki, you're not helping," Silco interjected, his voice cutting yet heavy with fatigue. "Without my extensive network, I wouldn't be aware that the stall owner ceased operations nor that you had vanished. There are two reasons for my frustration at this moment." He paused, and his tone became gentler. "The first is your absence. I was worried that something might have happened to you."

Shigaraki froze. The sting of those words hit him harder than any reprimand. His nails dug into his palms as he looked away.

"The second reason..." Silco's voice became solemn, his stare intense. "These deaths... This isn't what I taught you. I intended for you to wait until you were older before getting involved in this. This has only started happening recently... Why aren't you engaging with the other kids?."

"I-" Shigaraki looked at the surrounding people. He didn't want to talk about stuff here in front of everyone else.

Silco, quick at understanding the situation, nodded to the two gangers, who walked up and pulled the merchant out.

"No! Please! Silco! I promise I will pay!! NoOoooOo." The merchant began to squirm and plead, but Silco brushed him off as the gangers dragged him out of the room. Silco then glanced back at the three following him, particularly the new recruit, Deckard. Deckard's reaction took aback Silco; although he seemed to suppress the urge to gag at the sight of the bloody pool, and his pale face gave him away, he still acted calmly, 'a talent well chosen.' Silco thought to himself.

"You three, leave. I need to speak with my son alone, and what you witnessed here today must remain confidential." His icy, tainted gaze emanated an unnatural glow in the dimly lit room. Shigaraki loomed on the table at the back, clad in his ominous attire, intensifying the atmosphere of dread and tension. The three nodded vigorously and exited, closing the door behind them.

"Remove your mask," Silco said as he approached Shigaraki, reaching out to take it off. However, Shigaraki turned his head, halting Silco's action. Silco offered a bittersweet smile and stepped back, allowing Shigaraki to handle it on his own. He recognized that Shigaraki was maturing and desired greater independence.

As Shigaraki's four fingers grabbed the mask to take it off, what came into view were the dark circles under his eyes and a haggard-looking face.

Silco's heart ached; he never expected to feel this deeply. Yet, after embracing Shigaraki as his son, he dedicated time and effort to their relationship. Seeing his boy so unwell and clearly depressed, he understood that change was necessary.

"What about the children? I've noticed a group of kids who gather near the stall market. Why didn't you talk to them?" Silco said as he pulled out a makeup packet and began applying powder under Shigarakis' dark circles, making him appear less intimidating.

"They frustrate me… they really don't get me. It feels like they distance themselves while their parents just praise me. That's why I decided to step in and help you..." Shigaraki's minor sulks seemed to work.

"I can understand. My presence may have brought you both unexpected benefits and disadvantages…" Silco said with a little guilt. He didn't really think this far, as most of his time was spent building a better future for Zaun. Then, in thinking, he remembered that before his friend died, she had two daughters, and then his… other 'friend' took them in.

"I know of a place where you can possibly find some friends who won't be there without motives, and if it's them, maybe they can help keep you company. Would you like to try again?" Silco said with some tenderness, although it would come across as strange for those who knew him.

Shigaraki lifted his head, now looking more presentable, and simply nodded. Silco smiled at this before closing the makeup kit and returning the mask. As Shigaraki donned it again, Silco turned away, saying, "Let's go. I'd like to see an old acquaintance too," his tone colder than before.

Silco led Shigaraki through the winding, poorly lit streets of Zaun, where neon lights shimmered amidst the haze. He walked intently, his coat billowing behind him, yet a peculiar calm enveloped him. Shigaraki followed closely, casting fleeting glances at his father, trying to decipher the emotion in his gaze.

Finally, they stopped at a familiar corner where The Last Drop Inn was located. The sign softly buzzed, casting flickering lights on passersby.

"This is it," Silco said, his voice steady though tinged with something that sounded like hesitation. "An old acquaintance owns this place. He has two daughters, I mentioned. I think you'll like them." while his thoughts trailed. 'Felica, your daughters should be strong like you, right?'

His words took on deeper significance as memories of the owner flooded back, intensifying until he was engulfed in his thoughts, causing a tear to prick his eye. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel those memories, and the sting eventually faded.

As they entered, chatter halted, and patrons turned, eyes widening at the sight of Zaun's feared figure. Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"Silco…" 

"Is that… his child?" 

"Who is the boy?"

The murmurs faded as a tall, formidable woman named Sevika stepped forward. Her piercing gaze shifted between Silco and Shigaraki, pausing momentarily on the boy's pale blue hair and masked face.

"Sevika," Silco said smoothly, "I didn't come here for a fight; I just want a drink with the owner." 

"Let them through." a rough voice called from deeper within,

Sevika stepped aside hesitantly as Vander appeared from the shadows. His broad shoulders and worn face radiated the quiet strength of someone who had experienced too much. Behind him were two girls: one with short pink hair and a challenging stare, the other holding a stuffed monkey and watching Shigaraki curiously from behind his leg.

Shigaraki paused as the younger girl's eyes grew wide at his dark clothing and mask. She recoiled a bit, gripping the monkey more tightly. Shigaraki hesitated, raising his hand in an awkward greeting, but the gesture faltered as she retreated another step.

Silco observed and moved closer. He lifted his hands with intention and steadiness, removing Shigaraki's mask. Now, the boy's pale face, enhanced by the makeup Silco had applied before, became visible. His striking blue hair encircled his face, sharply contrasting with the black cloak. The girls' expressions changed from fear into curiosity.

"Vi," Vander said, his tone steady yet authoritative. Wait with Powder at the VIP booth with Sevika until I finish my conversation with our guest… and take the boy, too. " His gaze gave Sevika a hidden meaning.

Vi frowned slightly but nodded, taking Powder's hand. She gestured for Shigaraki to follow.

Shigaraki paused, unable to read Silco's expression. He then narrowed his eyes at Vander, placing a hand on Shigaraki's shoulder while offering a rare, comforting smile. "Go ahead. Your father will talk to him, and when I leave, you can come back here anytime you wish. Just stay out here with them until then."

Shigaraki and Vi sensed that something was off and tensed slightly. Vander coughed and said, "Sorry, I'm just a bit wary of my guest. I meant nothing towards you children." He offered a reassuring smile, which caused Vi and Shigaraki to relax. The two nodded and followed Sevika to a quiet spot, where they shared food and drinks while waiting.

****

The study had low lighting, with a single lamp throwing long, flickering shadows on the walls. The muted sounds from the bustling bar below drifted into a distant murmur, enveloping the room in a deep and stifling silence. Vander settled into the old chair, his large frame sinking into it, while Silco hesitated at the door, lightly touching the wood before allowing it to close with a soft click.

"Bold of you to come here," Vander began, his deep voice steady but carrying a sharp edge. "With him."

Silco paused before replying. He approached the table, removed nonexistent dust from the chair, and sat down carefully. In the dim light, his remaining eye shone as he observed Vander, his face conveying nothing.

"I assumed you'd value the gesture," Silco finally replied, his smooth and nearly friendly tone. "It's been some time, hasn't it? This…" he waved slightly toward their surroundings, "seems familiar, doesn't it?"

Vander's tone lowered. "Familiar, sure. But it doesn't feel the same."

"No," Silco admitted, a faint sadness tugging at his lips. "It doesn't."

Vander leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Why is he here, Silco? Why'd you bring that boy to my girls?"

Silco tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "He's a child, Vander. A lost one, at that. I thought… perhaps, being around others his age might help."

Vander snorted, shaking his head. "Don't play with me. That's not why you brought him. You don't do anything unless it serves a purpose." his eyes travelled over Silco's body, looking for some sort of clue.

Silco chuckled softly, the sound low and humourless. "Have you always thought so little of me?"

"I just know you," Vander corrected, his voice firm. "And I know what that boy's done."

The air seemed to thicken, the silence stretching between them. Silco's faint smirk remained, but there was a glint of cunning in his eye. "And what is it you think you know?"

"I've heard the whispers," Vander said, his voice hardening. "Stalls left empty. Gory pools left behind, and the striking pale-blue hair left at the scene."

Silco didn't flinch. He leaned back in his chair, his hands folding neatly in his lap. "Whispers. Rumours. You've always been good at listening to talk of the rats, haven't you.., Vander. Is that what you used when you decided to storm that bridge that day?"

Vander's chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood abruptly, towering over the table. His voice dropped to a low growl, dangerous and cold. "Don't insult me. I know the truth. I know what he's done, Silco. And you!" He moved faster than Silco expected, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him to his feet. "You brought him here. To my daughters."

Silco didn't resist. His hands remained at his sides, his face calm even as Vander slammed him against the wall. Vander's forearm pressed against Silco's neck, cutting off part of his breath.

"Why?" Vander demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Why bring him here?"

Silco momentarily resisted the pressure, his breath catching as he managed, "Because… he needs… this."

"Needs what?" Vander spat, his forearm pressing harder. "Another target? Another excuse? Or maybe it's just you, using him like a pawn! The same as you use everyone else."

Silco's lips twitched, but it was unclear whether it was a grimace or a smile. "You think… I don't care?" His voice was strained but steady. "You think I'm using him?"

"Yes," Vander hissed, his eyes blazing. "That's all you've ever done. It's who you are."

For an instant, something glimmered in Silco's eye, maybe pain or a memory. But just as swiftly, it vanished. His hand weakly tapped Vander's arm. "You're... choking me."

The words pulled Vander back to a distant moment, in another room and time. He envisioned Silco submerged once more, thrashing and gasping, hands clawing at Vander's arms. The familiar desperation, the relentless struggle for air. The memory struck him like a punch to the stomach, leaving Vander paralyzed.

With a deep breath, he stepped back, allowing Silco to slide down the wall. Silco coughed violently, his shoulders trembling as he struggled to catch his breath. Vander turned away, rubbing his face as the heaviness of his choices overwhelmed him.

"I'm not sure why I left it unfinished back then," Vander murmured, his voice just above a whisper. "Perhaps I should have."

Silco straightened up, smoothing his coat and fixing his collar. His eyes were keen as he raised his head, and his tone was icy. "But you didn't. And here we stand."

Vander turned back, his expression torn between anger and regret. "Why'd you bring him here, Silco? Really."

Silco paused, his hand momentarily resting against the wall for stability. He sighed, his tone gentle. "Because he is a boy, Vander. A poor, wounded boy whom the world has cast aside. He's angry, it's true. He's confused. Yet, he remains a child. He believes that his actions... are for me."

"And you allowed him to?" Vander exclaimed, his voice increasing in intensity. "You let him believe that, let him commit murder on your behalf?"

"I never told him to kill," Silco finally snapped, his emotions letting it run wild for this moment as his true thoughts left him. "He… he does it because he thinks it'll make me proud. He thinks he's protecting me. I didn't ask for it, Vander. But what am I supposed to do? Throw him away? Let him drown like the world already has?"

Vander stared at him, his broad chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he struggled to process Silco's words.

"I won't abandon him," Silco continued, his voice steadier now. "He's a child, Vander. And yes, he's rough. But he's not a monster. Not yet."

"And you think bringing him here to my girls is going to help him?" Vander asked, his tone heavy with skepticism.

"I believe," Silco stated thoughtfully, "that interacting with Felica's children, who don't fear him, might help him remember what it's like to be a kid. Her daughters... they're resilient. They'll manage well. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could have a positive influence on him."

Vander shook his head, his expression torn, but Silco bringing back Felicia's name made Vander falter. "I don't trust you, Silco. Not anymore. And I don't trust that boy."

Silco's lips curled into a faint smile. "You don't have to trust me. Just trust that I won't let anything happen to them," he said, his voice serious.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive. Vander finally sighed, stepping back and lowering his head. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But if anything happens…"

"It won't," Silco interrupted, his voice firm. "You have my word."

Vander gave him a long, searching look before turning toward the door. "Your word doesn't mean much to me anymore."

"Silco… Is it really impossible to return to what it was before…" Vander asked with a slow choke in his voice."

After a brief pause, Silco replied coldly, "No, the next time we meet in person will be the day I take control of Zaun. I hope you make a wise choice then, not just for yourself but also for the kids."

After a brief pause, Vander quietly opened the door and exited, leaving Silco alone in the dimly lit study. 

Silco stayed where he was for a long moment, his fingers brushing his throat as he exhaled slowly. Then he straightened his coat, adjusted his cuffs, and walked out of the room,

The Inn felt lonelier. Vander had evidently sent everyone away, leaving the three children huddled together and whispering. Silco glanced at Shigaraki with a smile that carried the heaviness of the previous conversation.

Shigaraki, as did the two girls, appeared to catch his gaze and turned around. Silco smiled and approached, placing his hands on Shigaraki's shoulders.

"I hope my son didn't bore you two ladies," his voice got a soft chuckle out of Vi, while Powder just smiled brightly.

"No, we planned to meet tomorrow morning to reintroduce ourselves better," the hard-spoken Vi responded concisely and clearly.

Silco was momentarily stunned; he could see Felicia among the two girls, but his own thoughts and resolve stopped him from saying anything else. He just nodded politely as the two girls walked hand in hand back to their room, not before Powder turned around and waved to Shigaraki. Silco raised his eyebrows in thought. 'Will this one become his fetter?' His eyes narrowed a bit, then released. 'Let the kids be kids; I believe Shigaraki will choose right.'

"Come on, you have something to look forward to tomorrow," Silco said with a grin at Shigaraki, who appeared noticeably more vibrant, even if just slightly.

'Vander, our paths will intersect once more, and when they do... I hope you won't let me down." The sensation of his throat being constricted fueled a fresh fury within Silco; next time, he would show no mercy.