Chapter Text
A coach rode down the cobblestoned paths of Paris. The vehicle’s maintenance, and most evident of all, its passengers' clothing spoke of aristocracy. However, most stares weren’t targeted towards her luxury. Rather, they were aimed at the company the woman kept.
Seated beside the Saverem matriarch was a cream furred cat hybrid clad in a bold red coat. His pedigree was as clear as the blue of his eyes, further enhanced by the beauty mark kissing his left cheek. He watched with no small amount of fondness as his sons Rollo and Kaite clambered across the couch to their preferred perches.
“Rollo, haven’t you forgotten something?” He called to the grey kit crawling onto Luida, an equine hybrid who’s greying hair did nothing to dissuade her gait.
“Can I please ride on your back, Ms Luida?” Rollo asked, the birthmark on his face only served to make his big eyes look bigger.
“Of course, dear.” Luida smiled dotingly.
Behind her, Kaite, a grey tux hybrid and Vash’s eldest, was needling Conrad into handing him the reins. Recently, the boy has become obsessed with vehicles, especially trains.
“One day, I’ll build my own coach.” Kaite harrumphed.
“Of course, you will, young master.” Conrad drawled, making no move to acquiesce to his demands.
“Leave Conrad alone, Kaite. Maybe another time, hm?” Vash said.
Kaite crossed his arms and pouted sulkily but obeyed his mother.
“Perhaps Kaite would be interested in horse-riding.” Rem suggested.
“That’s a great idea, Rem.” Vash beamed, recalling how much he enjoyed the activity himself. Perhaps he could use it to bond with Kaite.
“I wanna ride a horse too!” Lina, a brown tabby, piped in, throwing herself onto their laps.
“Of course, dear! Oh, Lina, my little one, you’re going to be as beautiful as your mother. Isn’t she, Vash?” Rem cooed, stroking her chestnut locks.
“Hopefully not too soon.” Vash jested, leaning against her shoulder.
The past few years have been kind to Vash. Though scars lingered, no longer did he go to sleep with new bruises marring his skin. Rem gave him everything he could ever need; food whenever he wanted, clothing tailored right, an education to read and write, his own rooms for privacy, an allowance to spoil himself and a prosthetic that allowed him to better hold his babies.
It was her hand Vash held in a bone-crushing grip when he brought his children into the world. It was her who volunteered to look after Kaite and Lina whenever Rollo, who had been the runt of the litter, fell ill. It was her name the kittens first learned to speak once they mastered ‘mama’. And it was her who continued to dote and spoil them as any grandmother would, never raising her hand no matter how rambunctious they got.
Even when others whispered behind their fans and inched away from Rem, she never hesitated to tell the world that Vash was her son, nor was she ashamed to support it.
Even as wrinkles deepened across her skin and whites sprouted in her once lustrous dark locks, Rem’s love and care for them remained steadfast and in turn, their loyalty to her equally so.
Soon, they arrived home. Conrad, ever the dutiful butler, offered a hand to help Rem down.
“Thank you, Conrad.” Rem said, picking up her parcel.
She walked forward and started. Dear oh dear, she’s truly getting old! She almost forgot about Luida.
“Here, Luida. How could I forget you?” she gave the dutiful mare a box of her favourite pastries.
“Oh madame, you’re too kind.” Luida said, gratefully accepting the gift.
“May I take your parcel, madame? It really is much too heavy for you.” Conrad offered.
“Now, ta-ta Conrad, don’t fuss over me.” She tutted good-naturedly.
Conrad shrugged. If his employer wanted to make his job easier for him, he certainly had no complaints.
“Oh, and Conrad? I'm expecting my attorney, Frank Marlon. You remember him, of course.” She relayed to him.
“Of course, madame. How could anyone forget him?” he grimaced.
“Welcome back, madame, Vash, gremlins.” a gruff voice greeted as they entered.
“Hi Roberto!” the children waved.
“Miss us?” Vash teased.
“The peace was nice while it lasted.” The brown mouse hybrid sighed theatrically.
“Tag! You’re it, Rollo!” Kaite grinned, smacking Rollo’s hat off before sprinting across the foyer.
“No fair!” Rollo yelped, adjusting his hat. “Get back here!”
“Too slow!” Lina giggled, dancing out of reach.
Shaking his head, Vash effortlessly plucked each kitten up before they got too far and tucked them under his arms.
“Aren’t all of you forgetting something?” he asked.
“Uh.....” Rollo scratched his head. “Thank you, Ms. Luida for letting me ride on your back.”
“You’re quite welcomed, young man.” Luida waved from outside.
“How’s that, mama?” Rollo’s chin tilted up, confident in his answer.
“That was very nice, sweetheart, but not quite what I meant. It’s time for your lessons with Roberto.” Vash replied.
A chorus of groans, whines and pleads answered him but Vash has long since learned when to put his foot down.
“The deal was we’d go shopping in the morning so you’d have to take Roberto’s lessons in the afternoon.” He reminded them.
“But they’re booriiiiiing!” Lina whined.
“Well then, I s’pose none of you wanna hear about the time Basil helped a princess find her lost ring.” Roberto shrugged.
The promise of an exciting story of Roberto’s distant ancestor immediately reignited their interest for learning. Vash hid a smile behind his hand, certain Roberto had once told him a similar story though at the time, the ring belonged to a milliner.
If people gossiped about his relationship with Rem, jaws would drop should they ever see the close bond he, a cat hybrid, shared with Roberto, a mouse hybrid.
Vash had gone through tutors the same way one goes through their wardrobe. Contrary to the degrading stereotypes that reinforced hybrids as retarded, Vash was in fact above average in terms of intellect.
While most teachers would be proud to have such an exemplary student, some of Vash’s tutors had stormed off in a huff, bruised pride bringing veiled prejudices to the forefront. Bad enough he was a hybrid, the fact that he was an omega (a fact he now knew to conceal with a scarf and suppressants) seemed to add salt to their perceived wounds.
(At least all of them had been betas and none of them had done more than slam the table in a fit of immature rage. Still, the first time he saw a beta raise their fist, he locked himself in his room and spent the rest of the day having a panic attack. His next lesson was taken over by a different beta who’d reward good test scores with homemade tea biscuits.)
Out of options but not resolve to give Vash the best education possible, Luida recommended Roberto, a fellow hybrid with a mysterious past. All they knew was that he had a distant relation to the famous Basil of Baker Street (or so he claimed after a few sips of wine) and a library’s worth of knowledge, ranging from history to basic philosophy.
Although mouse and cats were obligatory prey-predators, the grizzled man had seen too much to give two hoots about stereotypes upheld by knotheads who couldn’t see logic if it bit them in the arse and Vash was too gentle a soul to ever act on such a bestial instinct. Thus, an unorthodox mentorship turned into a friendship and now, he was the children’s grumpy uncle in all but name.
Leaning against the classroom’s doorway, Vash watched as Lina, Kaite and Rollo sat on the edge of their seats. Taking a gulp from his flask, Roberto wiped his mouth and started.
“Basil and Dawson had only just saved her majesty, the queen, when someone knocked on the door of Baker Street.....”
Conrad muttered words best left unheard as he gave Frank a piggyback ride up the stairs. Honestly, the elevator had been installed so he could avoid this inconvenience! Elevators are for old people, he said. Well perhaps intoxicated lawyers should be added to the list. If that man’s liver didn’t give out soon, Conrad’s back will.
Reaching Rem’s boudoir, he barely restrained from dropping the man like the sack of bones he is.
“Announcing....Monsieur...Frank....Marlow!” he wheezed, gripping onto the doorknob for dear life lest he topples over.
“Rem!” Frank greeted with open arms and only slightly off-balanced footwork. At least he knew which way was front and back.
“So good to see you, Frank.” Rem said, offering him her hand.
She clapped a hand over her face to muffle a laugh as Frank smacked a loud chaste kiss onto her feathery boa instead of her hand.
“Ah, still the softest hands in all of Paris, eh?” he sighed.
“Hah! And you’re still a shameless flatterer, Frank.” Rem teased.
Spinning the gramaphone’s hand crank, Conrad left once the first notes of Carmen’s Habanera filled the room.
Frank perked up at the familiar aria. “Rem, that’s music! It’s from Carmen, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. It was my favourite role.” And the red dress she wore for it had a special place in her heart, right next to Alex, Vash, her grandchildren, stars and geraniums.
“Yes, yes! It was the night of your grand premiere that we first met, remember? And how we celebrated your success! Champagne, dancing the night away.” Frank could practically taste bubbles at the back of his throat.
Seized by nostalgia and a bout of boldness from a lingering buzz of alcohol, Frank hummed to the tune, stiff joints rehearsing old moves with great aplomb.
His enthusiasm was infectious for Rem found her body flowing seamlessly with the tune. Laughter bubbled through her lips as Frank swooped in and tilted her into a dip. Dancing across the room, it was easy to pretend that the rugs beneath them were a stage and that the sunlight pouring through the windows were their spotlight.
But nostalgia was a fickle mistress. Soon, the song came to an end, as did the fantasy.
“Oh, thank goodness. Just in time.” She exhaled, slumping onto a chaise lounge as her limited stamina caught up with her
“Ah, Frank, we’re just a pair of sentimental old fools.” She huffed, fanning her pink-tinted cheeks.
Said old fool remained sentimental as he continued to hum and dance like there was no tomorrow.
“Now, Frank, do be serious. I've asked you to come here on a very important legal matter.” Rem chided.
The last three words sobered the man. Clearing his throat, he picked up his case and settled himself by a desk. Whipping out a pair of glasses, he uncapped his pen and arranged his papers.
“Splendid! Who do you want me to sue?” he asked with a worrying amount of anticipation.
“Come now, Frank, I don’t wish to sue anyone. No, I simply want to make my will.” Rem waved off.
He nodded. “Alrighty, who are the beneficiaries?”
“Well, as you know, I have no living relatives, and naturally, I want my beloved son and his children to always be cared for. Certainly no one can do this better than my faithful butler, Conrad.”
At the mention of his name, Conrad paused in his ironing. They were talking about her will. Did that mean.....?
“Conrad? You’re leaving your vast fortune to Conrad? Everything you possess, stock and bonds, this mansion, your country chateau, art treasures, jewels and-” as the list continued so did the choir of angels in his head. Truly, the heavens were smiling upon him at last!
“Oh no, Frank.” Wait. “To Vash and the kittens.” WHAT?!
He pressed his ear against the pipe. For once, he wouldn’t mind if that had been a slip of his hearing. For once, he wouldn’t mind to have made a human error.
“You want to entrust it all to Vash? Does he know about this?” Frank asked.
“Not yet, but I intend to discuss the matter with him over dinner tonight. Of course, I understand there’s a litany of finer details to talk over and lord knows how many loopholes we’ll have to look out for.” Rem admitted.
“If I may, are you certain you want to place it solely on Vash’s shoulders? People can be stupid but greedy. If they find out…..” Frank warned.
“If they find out, they can do nothing about it. This is my decision and Vash is my son, my heir. If you were in my shoes Frank, who would you entrust everything to?” she asked.
Frank’s silence was damning.
“Her son.” Conrad mouthed. Rem’s delusion truly had no bounds.
“What about Vash’s children then?” he asked.
“Naturally, they are next in line to inherit after Vash. Everything will be divided equally among the three unless they decide otherwise. As for Conrad, well, I’ve already set aside more than enough for him to retire and live the rest of his life quite comfortably....”
Conrad stumbled away, unable to stomach their discussion any further.
For decades, decades! He has shed blood, sweat and tears for this family, standing by Rem’s side before her glory days and remaining after the death of her husband, accepting her decision to stay single instead of remarrying and even tolerating her ludicrously sentimental infatuation with the stray she brought home to coddle.
And now, what was he getting in return? Meagre pickings as consolation while an omega hybrid and his bastard brood are gifted the lion’s share on a silver platter!
“The bloody kittens will inherit before me? But that’s outrageous, they’re children! They’ve barely even in the prime of their first lives.” He ranted.
Even if he was listed to inherit after them, it wouldn’t matter. They were young still while Conrad was.....was.......
Conrad froze. In that moment, he became acutely aware of the ache in his joints as of late and how the lense of his glasses have thickened to the point he was blind without them.
He was already long past his prime.
He was going to die long before he could have a taste of the wealth he’s owed for decades of servitude.
He wasn’t going to have it because the bloody cats were listed first-
Wait.....that’s it! God, the solution is so obvious he could slap himself.
“Oh no, no, no, I’ll outlive them. Lives are fickle and even if they have 9, they can’t be in 9 places at once! No, those cats will have to go.” Nodding to himself, he began to scheme.
It would be justice, he told himself. He’s been working himself to the bone while they lounged in splendour for doing diddly-squat. Besides, so what if he believed himself superior to them? Of course he would, he was man, through and through. They were nothing but glorified pets.
Now, they were pests that had to be eliminated.
Roberto had ended his story on a cliff-hanger, using the promise of a proper resolution to coax the children into taking their lessons a little more seriously. After spending an hour revising basic arithmetic, they were dismissed for recreational activities.
The trio raced across the yard, each one determined to reach the room first.
“Wait for me! Wait for me!” Rollo yelped as the grass alternated to sun-warm tiles. The door was within his sights, he was going to make it this time!
“Me first! Me first!” Lina declared, shoving past them like a hurricane.
“Why should you be first?” Kaite grumbled.
“Because I’m a lady, that’s why.” Lina sniffed, squeezing in first.
The brothers rolled their eyes at the word. Ugh, she loved using that to get her way. Nevermind that she had a long way to go on backing it up.
“Please, you’re no lady.” Kaite snorted.
“You’re nothing but a sister!” Rollo agreed, grabbing her tail and yanking her back.
Lina yelped, landing on her bottom as her brothers dashed past her.
“I’ll show you if I’m a lady or not!” she glared.
Rollo squealed as the brown tabby pounced on him. She was fast and feisty but a recent growth spurt has made Rollo bigger and he used his size to pin her down and tickle her stomach.
“That tickles!” Lina shrieked, insides quaking.
“Get her, Rollo, get her!” Kaite cheered, jumping up and down the couch to hype them up.
In retaliation, Lina swiped Rollo’s hat off his head. Distracted by the loss, she slipped out of his grasp, taking his headwear hostage.
“You don’t fight fair, Lina!” Rollo whined as she kept it out of reach.
“Females never fight fair.” Kaite heckled, hurling throwing pillows at Lina to support Rollo.
“You-you bastard!” she cursed, more out of spite than actual pain from the onslaught.
“Now now, kits, what did we say about fighting and name-calling?” Vash’s serene voice cut through the chaos like a scythe through wheat.
The trio cringed at being caught. Lying was out of the option so they could only admit the truth....from their own perspectives that is.
“Lina started it.” Rollo pouted, the fact that she still didn’t return his hat further incriminated her.
“Ladies don’t start fights but they can finish em’!” she hissed.
“Fights shouldn’t be started at all.” Vash sighed, adjusting their wrinkled clothes. “Fights hurt people and sometimes, those hurts don't go away.”
Vash wasn’t a fighter but only because the scars on his body were a lifelong parting gift from violence. The moment his belly began to show, he swore he'd do everything he could to prevent his kits from ever having to meet such a harsh acquaintance. Conflict was inevitable amongst family, but he'll always draw the line at cruelty.
“You can’t just take something that’s important to someone or throw things around either, especially inside the house.” He scolded. “What if you broke something or got hurt?”
“Sorry, mama.” The kittens’ ears drooped contritely.
“But we were just practicing biting and clawing.” Kaite said.
“Aristocrats have no need to practice biting and clawing and things like that, it’s just horrible!” Vash chided, easily repeating Rem’s lessons.
“But what if we meet a tough alley cat someday?” grinning, Kaite unsheathed his claws and bared his fangs. Fur standing on hand, he feigned clawing at his siblings and hissed until his throat was dry.
Vash laughed at his son’s attempt at intimidation. It wasn’t successful but he certainly had spirit. He’ll be even more of a handful once he presents.
“Hopefully that day will never come. Today though, we’ll be doing self-improvement!” he declared, trying to build up excitement for an abundance of energy never guaranteed longer attention spans.
“Why don’t you go start on your painting, Kaite?” he coaxed.
Roberto once noted that the grey tux seemed to have an astounding ability to recall anything of visual interest to him, even if he only caught it in glimpses. Thus, making painting and drawing his favourite creative outlet.
“Sure, mama.” He agreed. He hissed at Rollo one more time before heading to his easel.
“Mama, can we watch Kaite paint before we start our music lesson? Please?” Lina pleaded.
“Okay, but we have to be quiet.” Lest any annoyance spirals into another round of bickering. “Kaite, don’t forget your-”
SPLAT! Kaite barely spared the new paint splatter on his already stained overalls a glance before going to town on the canvas.
“....smock.” Vash sighed, wondering why he still bothered.
Kaite alternated between pencil and brush before opting to smear paint across his palms. Wiping his brow, he left a smudge of red across his forehead. A dot of green was left on his chin as he held it in contemplation before adding the final details.
And now for the finishing touch.
With a grandiose stroke, he added his piece de resistance: a large mustache over a frowning mouth.
“Ta-dah!” he proudly showed them the portrait.
Rollo laughed, recognizing the caricature with glasses, a bald head and a bushy moustache. “It’s Conrad!”
“Yeah! Cranky Crusty Conrad!” Lina giggled.
“Cranky Crusty-!” Vash half-heartedly attempted to disguise his laugh as a cough.
Rollo and Lina were rolling across the floor in hysterics while Kaite cackled like a witch. This was definitely his finest work yet.
“C’mon, kids, be nice. Don’t forget that Conrad takes good care of us too.” Still, it would be nice if he lightened up a bit, Vash privately mused.
“But his face turns all funny and red when he’s cranky.” Lina giggled.
“Like a tomato!” Rollo agreed.
“Or constipation.” Kaite smirked, sending them into another fit of laughter.
“Okay, that’s enough laughter. Let’s leave Kaite to his painting. Lina, Rollo, you two can run along to the piano now, go ahead.” He nudged Lina along.
“Yes, mama.” She purposely flicked her tail into Rollo’s nose as she sauntered past him.
Rollo scowled. If there’s one thing that held true for all children, especially siblings, it’s an innate sense of possessiveness and competitiveness. Music lessons tend to make Lina a bit of a diva since she always used the opportunity to hog the spotlight and Vash’s attention.
He elbowed past her while sprinting towards the stool and Lina yanked his tail to get back at him for doing it to her earlier.
Lina haughtily smoothed her skirts and hair, warming up her vocals on a nearby stool. Not to be outdone, Rollo sat down and took his sweet time cracking his knuckles finger by finger.
“I’m ready, maestro.” She drawled sarcastically.
She yelped when Rollo dragged his paws across the keys in a discordant glissando. He knew she hated that sound!
“You-!” she forcefully reigned in her temper, wanting neither Vash’s admonishments nor for her brothers to heckle her a tattletale.
“Rollo, please settle down and play me your wonderful song, yes?” Vash asked, settling onto an armchair to watch.
“Yes, mama.” Rollo acquiesced.
He started to play and like Monday follows Sunday, Lina began to sing.
“So on the first evening, a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon a dreaming world....
“So on the second celestial evening, all the children of the pebble held hands and composed a waltz....
“So on the third celestial evening, the children’s waltz spawned rippling waves across the waking world....sound life.....”
As she paused to catch her breath, Rollo swooped in to steal her thunder.
“So, on the fourth celestial evening, the waves showered the ground upon which every child wandered.
“So…on the fifth celestial evening, the showers on the earth became its beacon of existence.
“So…on the sixth celestial evening, the beacon shined across the skies reaching to weary travellers....sound life.....”
Rollo waggled his brows. ‘See? I can do both at the same time.’ He silently boasted. Lina rolled her eyes.
“So on the seventh-” she did a double-take as Rollo diverted from the original script, adding a new rhythm to force Lina to wait even longer. Cheeky boy.
Kaite decided to invite himself to the piano session, forcing Rollo to scoot aside to give him room. Rollo spluttered as Kaite’s paint-dripping hands almost flicked a splash of orange into his eyes.
Lina shrieked happily as Vash hoisted her onto his lap so they could sing together.
“So…on the seventh eventide, the travelers raced like weightless clouds – a ship of restless dreamers....
“So…on the eighth morning, my dreams from somewhere out of nowhere woke to songs our souls were singing....”
“Now…the song our souls were singing, echo under clear blue skies that guide the life of every being.....” the family sang the final chorus in unity and had an audience been present, the roof would be tremoring from applause.
Rollo and Kaite continued to play the keys, competing to see who could think of a better ending for the song. Soon, it became less about the song and more a race to determine who could slap more keys. Rollo screamed when Kaite played dirty, smearing his dirty hands onto his face causing them to devolve into a slap fight.
Vash laughed at their mischief, wrapping all three children in a big hug. It felt like only yesterday they were so little, he could pile all three of them across his bosom.
“Great job everyone! We definitely improved today. Oh, I’m so proud of you all.” he praised.
“Moooom.” Kaite groaned, too ‘old’ for such mushiness but making no move to detach from the embrace.
“Bravo, kiddos. Bravo.” Roberto grunted, entering the room. He raised a brow at the mess it was in.
“Lina started it!” Kaite sang.
“Liar!” Lina stuck her tongue out.
Roberto’s chest rumbled, his equivalent of a bark of laughter. He suspected that Lina might present as an omega and hoped her spitfire personality would be a solid foundation for assertiveness against unwanted advances.
Their ears twitched as the door handle creaked. Conrad entered with a cloth-covered silver tray balanced in his palm.
“Good evening, little ones.” He greeted amiably. He hummed a little tune, unfazed even as he was forced to navigate around haphazardly scattered throw pillows, a terrain that’s irked him since it’s resulted in one too many trips.
“He’s in a good mood.” Roberto noted.
“A light snack to tide you over until dinner. Your favourite dish, prepared specially today. Creme de la creme a la Conrad.” He unveiled a platter of beautiful cups filled to the brim with white nourishing goodness alongside plates of finger foods.
The kits wasted no time chugging down their respective portions, small hands darting out for crispy biscuits, juicy fruits and sharp cheese slices.
“Thank you, Conrad.” Vash smiled. The gesture was unusually thoughtful but appreciated nonetheless.
“Sleep- I mean, eat well.” Conrad bid.
“....am I the only one who's weirded out?” Roberto asked.
“More for us, I suppose.” Vash shrugged, taking a deep sip and oh, the cream swam with a heady mixture of sugar, nutmeg, vanilla and cinnamon.
“I can spare a few dunks for a cracker or two.” Roberto conceded. Best be careful not to let his paranoia turn him senile just yet.
He nibbled a soaked cracker, devouring two thirds in the span of a second.
“Huh, guess that old coot is good for something after all.” Roberto grunted, swallowing the last crumb before helping himself to more.
Vash nodded, draining the rest of his cup. Maybe he could convince Roberto to finish the story now? The kits deserved a reward for displaying so much improvement and he was never short on stories anyway. He could always recount their favourite one during the next lesson, the one involving the Mouse Queen and automatons and towers…no, it was a clock tower, right? And there was a...soldier? Medic? The drowsiness was making it hard to remember……
He opened his mouth to ask but a yawn snatched it away. A snore rose from Roberto and it’d be rude to wake him.
Oh well, he’ll just have to ask when they woke up.