Deviations

Sokovia, Novi Grad

February 26, 1998 10:45 AM

Language: [Slovak], (Japanese), English

The familiar smell of cooked pork caused the young boy to stir on the couch. Minutes later, a stray beam of sunlight shined through the window and onto his face. He made a discomforted expression before instinctively raising his right hand to shield his eyes. Golden orbs blinked open, still in a daze. To his immediate surprise, he was not in the familiar sterile environment of the clinic.

Instinct went into overdrive. Golden eyes scanned the room. Despite initial assumptions, he was seemingly not kidnapped by a magus he had wronged during his active years. His person was draped in an aged yet warm blanket. A few family photographs hung up on the wooden walls. To his right was an older model of a CRT television he hadn't seen in years. The decorations and background music of the radio were foreign to him, but if he had to guess, he was somewhere in Eastern Europe.

The boy shifted to his right to get up, only to feel an aching pain. His body stilled, and his eyes widened in shock. His eyes drifted into seeing a bruised arm that hadn't been there in years. A yelp escaped his breath, and he lost his balance, tumbling himself and the blanket onto the carpet. As more aches and pains rushed through his body, he yelled aloud. Another revelation was revealed to him. Ignoring the pain and slowly removing the blanket wrapped around him, the boy found that not only did his missing right leg return, but his entire body was smaller. He was a child...

Thoughts raced through his mind as he hyperventilated, trying to comprehend the situation. In his confusion, he didn't even notice an older woman rush over and kneel before him, comforting hands gently patting his back and shoulder.

"[Oh, my god! What's wrong? Are you hurt?]" Golden eyes stared into her own, losing tension as the seconds passed. [Oleg! He woke up!]

Steadying himself, the boy didn't understand what she was saying, but he could safely assume she was worried for him, judging by her facial expressions. Unsure of how to reply, he simply nodded in some form of affirmation.

The door creaked open, and a shaved-headed man came through the nearby door holding a toolbox. He heard a rush of small footsteps follow, and two children, seemingly theirs, got behind the woman with their looks of confusion or worry.

The son frowned. "[What happened?]"

The daughter nodded. "[Yeah. We heard him from outside.]"

The mother rustled the heads of the two. [Probably just scared, sweetie. Waking up somewhere new can do that to people.]

The father turned to the boy on the floor. "[If you're okay, can you tell us your name?]"

The boy tilted his head a bit and tried to reply back. "(I don't know what you are saying.)"

The family blinked at the reply. He didn't speak Slovak. It was definitely from the Asian countries. Shaking their heads, the father and mother helped the boy back onto the couch. "[I'm not sure he's from around here.]"

The son groaned and turned to the girl. "[The first time we decide to help someone, and we can't even talk to him.]"

"[How was I supposed to know.]" Her eyes shifted to the TV, and an idea struck her. After standing in front of the new boy to get his attention, she patted her chest and spoke. "My name is Wanda." There was a shine of recognition in the red-headed boy's eyes, so she kept going. She then gestured to her brother, and his eyes followed. "Brother Pietro," She pointed to her parents. "Mother. Father." She finished off with her hand pointed at the stranger.

The boy looked down at himself and hesitated before answering, "My name is… Shirou."

Sokovia, Novi Grad

February 26, 1998 11:45 AM

Language: [Slovak], (Japanese), English

Following Shirou's awakening and introduction, Oleg took the initiative to get the boy washed up and re-clothed, much to the stranger's insistence. The process was slow due to his former missing limbs being sensitive to touch. Shirou slowly exited the bathroom, now wearing some of Pietro's old clothes.

He paced to the family room, where everyone was preparing lunch. Shirou took an extra seat across from Pietro. "Thank you for the clothes."

The son looked at Shirou up and down before shrugging. "It is fine. Getting too small for a man like me."

To the left, Wanda huffed in amusement. "Maybe you are just getting fat."

Pietro stuck his tongue out at his sister. "Since we are twins, if I get fat, you get fat too."

"That's not how it works!"

Oleg laughed at their antics. "At least you get fat together."

"Dad!" exclaimed his kids.

Iryna walked to the table and lightly nudged her husband. "If you keep bringing them home sweets, I won't be surprised." She placed warm bowls of stew in front of everyone, including Shirou, and sat down herself.

Oleg looked at the red-headed boy. "We are glad you are feeling okay, Shirou."

Wanda took a spoon of her mother's broth with a smile. "The food good for you?"

Shirou took a bit of a pork piece and let it simmer in his mouth. The meat's savoriness was complemented by the garlic and the vegetable broth. It was a soft flavor that drew his spoon for another serving. "It's well made." He turned to Iryna. "You make your family proud."

The mother put a hand to her chest and beamed. "Thank you, Shirou. Aren't you the little gentleman?"

The group continued to eat for a few minutes before Oleg started the conversation they all needed. "So, Shirou, do you remember how you got here?"

Shirou blinked. He hadn't thought too much about it until now. His brow wrinkled. "I don't know…" He turned to the family. "How did I get to your home?"

"Wanda and I found you on our way home and thought you needed some help, so we did," answered Pietro.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "You mean I wanted to help him? You wanted to leave him in the street."

Shirou stared at the boy flatly before he turned to the girl and smiled. "I guess I owe my safety to you, Wanda." His amber eyes softened to all of them. "Thank you. I don't know if I can ever return the favor to you and your family."

Wanda went a little pink from his expression of gratitude and averted her eyes. "It's nothing. Thanks to my mom, I just did what I thought was right."

Oleg placed a hand on his chest and wore a fake pained expression. "Ooh. My daughter hurts me so much."

Iryna playfully slapped her husband's arm. "You know what she meant."

"Yeah. Besides, I'm sure you would have been fine in that alley, but I still helped you in the end," argued Pietro.

The father patted his son on the shoulder. "Not helping your case, son." Oleg turned back to Shirou. "In any case, how did you get in that alley as you are. You're obviously not from around here, considering you don't speak the local tongue. You speak English very well. I assure Ireland."

Shirou took a sip of water to calm himself before answering. "I lived in Japan, but I don't know how I ended up here…" The parent's brows shot up at the answer. "What country is this?"

"We're in Sokovia," answered Iryna.

"Yes. Glory greatest country!" joked Pietro.

"Bah, ignore him," waved off Oleg. "Personally, it's not so great as of late."

"Oh…" The former vigilante was familiar with unstable countries.

Iryna shook her head. "Sorry about that. Do you remember anything from before you woke up?"

The magus chose his words carefully. "I was in a hospital because of an accident."

"I suppose that explains your bruising, but what about your mom or dad?" Oleg frowned. "They must be worried sick."

The guest went silent and looked downcast for a moment. "I don't know them…"

The family was surprised by the revelation, leaving them guilty for having him answer. "It must be a touchy subject for you."

Feeling the assumptions popping up in their heads, Shirou tried to lead them in a more manageable direction. "There was a fire in my town… I was the only survivor. The only thing I could remember at the time was my given name."

The family held shocked expressions. "My god…"

Shirou shook his head at the dark memory. "The one who saved me took me in as his son."

"That's good," offered Oleg. "Maybe we can contact him and-"

The boy cut him off and smiled solemnly at them. "He's not with me anymore. Illness. Lived on my own since then." The room fell into silence. Shirou simply stared at his bowl of food now and inwardly sighed. 'They probably think I'm a bad omen and want me to leave. Archer had complained about his E-Rank Luck before. In turn, that must be the same for me.'

The sound of chairs screeching cut off his train of thought. Before he could speak, Wanda and Pietro pulled him into a hug, both of them tearing up. Their embrace felt… nice. It had been so long.

Right after them, their parents got down to his level. A wet Iryna brought a gentle hand to his face. "I'm so sorry, Shirou."

Oleg came next, ruffling his hair. "To go through all that and still be able to smile… You would have made your birth parents proud."

Hearing this cracked Shirou's composure. With everything he had done in his past life, he wasn't so sure. "I-I don't know what to say."

Iryna shook her head at the boy. "You don't need to say anything. Let's finish our meal and get you back to rest. We can discuss what happens next when you're healthy again."

Free from the twins' grasp, he took another spoonful of the stew and smiled again. "It would be a shame to let your hard work get cold."

The mother laughed. "If you keep this up, I might not mind having you around longer."

Meanwhile

Kathmandu, Nepal

Within the ancient halls of Kamar-Taj, a bald Celtic woman in yellow robes meditated. She wore a golden necklace with the center opened, revealing a green gemstone. In past centuries, The Ancient One had often used the Eye of Agamotto to look into the near future for threats. However, the past few days had her worried. The timeline had shifted and clouded, and she didn't know why. Glimpses into the future seemingly brought her visions of legendary weapons of the past in the modern-day.

In Sokovia, an archer jumped rooftops, carrying goods from the corrupt upper class to the poorer neighborhoods.

In Germany, a two-handed, golden greatsword with a blue jewel embedded in the hilt struck an emerald dragon. The river Rhine shined as the protected Rhinegold sparked with lightning, taking the form of a legend once lost to time.

In Britain, a silver and gold sword with blue accents is raised over the ruins of the lost kingdom of Camelot. Not far away, the Brocéliande glowed.

Other glimpses were too blurred to make anything out at the moment.

Staring into the distant night, she only hoped this unknown future would turn out for the better.