To Drown In A Sweet Dream [Vanyel/Calypso]

He kept his head turned away from the muffled version of his parents, reveling in the silence of his room, his head only lifting up as he felt Calypso's hands on his shoulders, turning his head to face her, shrinking away briefly as she went to touch his face, before sliding back toward her, his eyes wide with fear and uncertainty, trembling lightly as she touched his cheek.

As she leaned in close and pressed her head against his, he slowly closed his eyes, his lip quivering. Sniffling softly, the young human opened his eyes, nodding his head before wrapping his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly, before letting go and holding her hand. Closing his eyes again, the voices of his mother and father gradually became audible, finally being heard for a short time before the two went silent, and Vanyel's head lifted to look them in the eye.

"Mama, Papa...where's my friend?"

His father's brow furrowed, and his mother sighed, taking a step forward and kneeling down at the end of his bed, reaching out to him, only for Vanyel to suddenly scoot back, his eyes going wide again. His mother sighed again, lowering her arms as she got to her feet.

'He's gone. He won't be able to hurt you again. Demons have no place, neither here nor in this world.'

Vanyel's eyes went even wider, his hands trembling as tears welled up in his eyes.

"W-What did you do to him...?"

His father stepped past the doorframe, his mouth contorted into a frown that seemed to take up the entirety of his featureless face.

'Exorcised him, son.'

Vanyel's mouth dropped open as warm, wet tears slid down his cheeks, staring at his parents in abject horror. They...had killed him. His own parents had killed his only friend, the only person who seemed to understand his thoughts on everything, who even agreed with his line of thinking. The only person who genuinely seemed to care about him and his parents killed him, seemingly without a second thought.

"But...he didn't do anything wrong. They were my friend! He was nice to me!"

His father's frown turned to a scowl, and he reached to pull Vanyel's mother away from the bed, stepping back to the door.

'Reverend, you can come in now. You were right that he might have been possessed or influenced by it. You have my permission to perform the exorcism.'

Vanyel slowly started to back away, trying to process what his father had just said. He sounded so heartless and robotic as he said it -- like he didn't even care about the fact that he had just ended a life, even if they were a demon, he had still been a living being, and they just...ended his life without so much as a hint of remorse.

A tall man stepped in, someone Vanyel didn't recognize, wearing a black jacket and a matching black hat, holding a cross in one hand, and a Bible in the other.

'Don't be afraid, son. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just getting rid of anything that demon might have done to you.'

Vanyel slid back more, his breathing growing more and more panicked as the man turned to his parents.

'You'll need to restrain him so that he doesn't hurt himself or someone else.'

His father gave a grim nod as he left the room, returning a few minutes later with a variety of different restraints in his arms. Unable to run out the door, Vanyel was forcibly tied down to his bed, his arms outstretched and his legs forced together, only able to move his head. The boy kicked and screamed as much as he could, but could do hardly anything against the strength and weight of multiple adults. Despite being tied down, Vanyel's head thrashed and jerked around to try and get himself free, but to no avail as tears welled up in his eyes.

"I'm not possessed! Leave me alone!"

The priest then began to recite a variety of prayers and scriptures, the words and voices beginning to echo through the room and beyond, as if repeating thousands of times over, again and again, as Vanyel continued to cry and thrash in place. The ritual proceeded for several hours, and as time went by, Vanyel began to wear himself out, his thrashing dying down to weak movements of his head as he lay there, crying.

"Leave me alone...please, someone, help me...I'm scared..."

Hearing Calypso's ethereal voice break through the ritualistic chanting sent a small wave of relief down his spine, his hand briefly twitched, though quickly accepted her hand in his, and he took in a deep, shaky breath as she reassured him, telling him that it was okay to feel scared and feel wronged. The boy's lip quivered as he turned his head to try and look at her, to try and keep himself distracted from the chanting.

He knew the world wasn't forgiving, but he gave a slow, quiet nod as he blinked away more tears. This was...just the past. His parents couldn't control him anymore -- they weren't there to control him. His thoughts went to his brothers in the Yakuza -- they had always expected more of him when he was welcomed into the family, and so he became more. Squeezing his eyes shut, Vanyel tried his best to block out the priest's chanting. He was stronger since then, his parents did nothing but hold him back now. They were just...another obstacle to overcome.

He wasn't the scared, hurt child that he was back then. He wasn't the kid that blindly and mindlessly obeyed every single one of his parent's instructions out of fear. He was stronger than that now. Despite how real this memory felt and how much it hurt to relive it and hear everything all over again -- if Caly believed that he was strong enough, he had to at least try. As long as she was by his side, there to help him and be with him, part of him felt that there was nothing he couldn't do for the sake of protecting her, and doing his best to love her.

So, opening his eyes to look at Calypso for a moment, squeezing her hand tightly before closing his eyes again. He started to pull at his restraints, his breathing shaky. He could break free -- he knew he could. He continued to pull and tug, feeling the weight of them lessen. This moment wouldn't hold him back anymore. It was painful to remember the loss of his friend, how harsh and cold his parents had been to his friend and Vanyel himself, but he had to stop running away from it and letting it hold him back.

Pulling again and again, with each attempt, they felt lighter and lighter. Finally, pulling one last time, the restrains snapped, and Vanyel quickly sat up, his breathing spiking in pace as he looked at his wrists and ankles. He was free. Ever so slowly, Vanyel slowly slid his legs over the side of the bed, taking another look at his wrists, seeing the shackles shimmering to life on his wrists, before snapping open and falling, slowly fading out of existence before they even hit the floor, Vanyel fading away soon after.

A voice echoed from the room, young, yet filled with authority.

'Come, join me. Someone like you shouldn't be left to rot in the gutter. Do you have a name, kid?'

'...Vanyel. Vanyel...Xioyang.'

A steel door manifested in front of Calypso, slowly creaking open as a warm, gentle light broke through the darkness. Should Calypso walk through the door, she would find herself in a medium-sized, Japanese bar, though the infrastructure did not feel like it was a building in Japan -- more, as if it were one room in a series of others. The shelves were barren as if they hadn't been restocked in years, and the lights were dim. Old tattoo needles and equipment were stowed away in the corner, covered in dust. The same voice from before echoed from the room once again.

'Say hello to our newest shatei, everyone. Welcome to the family, Vanyel.'

A slightly younger Vanyel materialized, the ends of his hair had turned a light grey in contrast to his dyed, snowy hair. His arms rested on the bar, his head low as he stared at the dark wood. Another voice, slightly deeper from the one before yelled out.

'How did you mess up that badly?! You're yakuza, Vanyel, not some petty criminal!'

Vanyel winced, gripping the small glass in front of him tightly.

'What are we going to do now?! We weren't prepared to select a new leader, despite his wishes!'

Vanyel gripped the glass tighter, lowering his head further as he mumbled to himself.

"It's my fault..."

The moment he said that, countless male voices shouted from all around him, the words blurring together, to a point where it was hard to even discern what was being said. The words "prison," "disband," and "lay low," were being said time and time again, and Vanyel let go of the glass to cover his ears.

"Stop...I didn't mean to..."

Words could not explain how wrong that one day had gone for Vanyel back then. They were set up, and now, since they needed a scapegoat, the blame rested on his shoulders -- though, he had long since accepted that it had been his fault to begin with. If he never joined the yakuza -- no, if he had never existed -- this would have never happened. Vanyel continued to stare at the shot glass, the ice cubes gently tapping against one another as they melted and moved.

His lip quivered for a moment, before he quickly brought the glass to his lips, swallowing the small bit of alcohol before slamming the glass down with a thud, though it didn't shatter. As he softened his grip on the glass, he let out a quiet gasp as he felt Calypso's draconic head press against his cheek. He felt some comfort, but it quickly faded as she tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault.

"It was my fault...we-- I got careless, and I got the Family Heads arrested, then...the whole clan fell apart at the seams."

The words echoed briefly around the room, causing the voices from before to start up again, becoming louder and louder, trying to drown Calypso out. Vanyel's eyes closed and squeezed tightly shut as he tried to shut them out, to stop thinking about back then and just keep it all buried away. He could still hear her, but he only heard parts of what she said.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to get away from it all, to flee and get far away from all of this anxiety, this pain, this sorrow -- the people that took him in, the family that he desperately wanted, only for it all to come crumbling down. He felt her face against his cheek, and his lip continued to quiver. He tried his hardest to focus on her, managing to hear her continue, but she still sounded so far away. He wanted to hear her, trying to will her voice to shine and break through the endless stormy chaos of voices condemning him.

And then, the storm finally cleared. The voices slowly receded into the background, turning into a garbled haze. Caly's gentle voice felt like music as she continued, her voice still quiet, but he could hear her clearly.

"You don't have to run away anymore, Vanyel..."

Another quiet gasp came from him as she spoke. Tears started to pool in his eyes as he started to shrink up, pulling his body close to itself as he gripped the glass harshly, his knuckles turning white. He shook his head, his arms pulling themselves closer to his body. An audible growl rumbled in the man's throat as he suddenly stood up and hurled the glass against the wall, watching it shatter and fall to the floor before he slumped back into the chair, burying his face into his arms as he wiped his eyes on his sleeves.

'I could never be a father...I couldn't even be a leader for my brothers, how could I ever be something like that?'