[The first few days, even weeks, they had spent here, Faustino had felt it for the lie it was. Family was the reason that he had spent all of his years, and the lifetimes of others, suffering. Family was the reason why he had been hated. For the good of the Family was why he had been subjected to unspeakable torment, and it would have lead to his death had he not gotten as strong as he was. Even though Don Caro told him repeatedly, with actions and words, that they were welcome here, that they would be cared for, that they were Family, that word was a poison to Faustino. He couldn't trust them, not even all these years later, even after they had come to rescue him. They were still mafioso to be despised and hated, to only be befriended with a smiling mask placed over his true feelings, to be used and discarded when they were broken.
Living in this comfortable atmosphere, where everyone greeted them with smiles, had apparently managed to get Ciro and Al to lower their guards, if Ciro was speaking this nonsense to him. He felt his face still, far more telling than any expression he could have ever conjured, because Ciro of all people would know what it meant. Shutting down, detaching, not wanting to look and numbing oneself. Because for all the betrayal the Estraneo Family had heaped upon him, he had never thought Ciro and Al would do this to him. Leaving without asking his permission was something they would have never done otherwise. He had been a fool doubly in this matter, to believe he could take on a family all by himself and that Al and Ciro's loyalties were still his and his alone. ( A small part of him whispered that this is what he had done to them, so tournabout was only fair play, but that part was easily squashed. They were Faustino's, after all, to be moved and used as he saw fit. After all he had done for them, he was not the one who was going to be left behind. )
Unfortunately or fortunately, he was not completely like Ciro. His expression would only be blank for so long before anger clouded it, and he could feel his right eye burning as if it had been drenched in flames. Carefully, he closed his eyes, smiling as if his mouth was full of knives, as if he was one step away from ripping out Ciro's vocal cords from his lying throat with his teeth. Thoughts wild, he knew he could also take this out on Al, to make him choose where his true loyalties lied, but that would be akin to kicking the dog just because the housewife had been unfaithful. It was cruelty with no real reason. This was Ciro, in a way that he had never thought possible.]
Is that so? Enjoy your stay. Japan is a beautiful country.
[Would they still take the identities that Mukuro Rokudo had crafted for them, or would they eschew those as well? And had Ciro completed his betrayal by telling the Don all that Faustino had been planning and doing underneath his nose? It would be easy, to kill him now, as defenseless as he was, to have him keep his silence. But despite the rage and despair ( and hurt ), there was also a cold clinical side to him that knew death was too easy. Living was where the real torture and torment lied.
He unclenched his fingers from his blanket ( when had they gotten like that? and without his permission? ) opening his eyes to look at Ciro, really look at him.]
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Living in this comfortable atmosphere, where everyone greeted them with smiles, had apparently managed to get Ciro and Al to lower their guards, if Ciro was speaking this nonsense to him. He felt his face still, far more telling than any expression he could have ever conjured, because Ciro of all people would know what it meant. Shutting down, detaching, not wanting to look and numbing oneself. Because for all the betrayal the Estraneo Family had heaped upon him, he had never thought Ciro and Al would do this to him. Leaving without asking his permission was something they would have never done otherwise. He had been a fool doubly in this matter, to believe he could take on a family all by himself and that Al and Ciro's loyalties were still his and his alone. ( A small part of him whispered that this is what he had done to them, so tournabout was only fair play, but that part was easily squashed. They were Faustino's, after all, to be moved and used as he saw fit. After all he had done for them, he was not the one who was going to be left behind. )
Unfortunately or fortunately, he was not completely like Ciro. His expression would only be blank for so long before anger clouded it, and he could feel his right eye burning as if it had been drenched in flames. Carefully, he closed his eyes, smiling as if his mouth was full of knives, as if he was one step away from ripping out Ciro's vocal cords from his lying throat with his teeth. Thoughts wild, he knew he could also take this out on Al, to make him choose where his true loyalties lied, but that would be akin to kicking the dog just because the housewife had been unfaithful. It was cruelty with no real reason. This was Ciro, in a way that he had never thought possible.]
Is that so? Enjoy your stay. Japan is a beautiful country.
[Would they still take the identities that Mukuro Rokudo had crafted for them, or would they eschew those as well? And had Ciro completed his betrayal by telling the Don all that Faustino had been planning and doing underneath his nose? It would be easy, to kill him now, as defenseless as he was, to have him keep his silence. But despite the rage and despair ( and hurt ), there was also a cold clinical side to him that knew death was too easy. Living was where the real torture and torment lied.
He unclenched his fingers from his blanket ( when had they gotten like that? and without his permission? ) opening his eyes to look at Ciro, really look at him.]
I won't be waiting for your return.