Something Better Yet [Nekane x Vasco]

v a s c o 


Take the parts of me you thought were pure
Tear 'em up, then tear 'em even more
Drown 'em till they all disintegrate
Do you see the point I'm tryna make?

He kept returning to Nekane’s speech, the same one that nearly burst his heart into pieces from pride. 

He couldn’t imagine what had convinced her to run when she’d first announced, but no one could’ve been more behind the idea of Nekane as mayor than Vasco.

Homemade buttons and posters littered his office, and he’d been shaking hands on her behalf (whether she’d asked or not), too.

It had him think back to his own initial run.

It had been a threeway race between Vasco Izar, Ikaia Miristioma, and Maya Fel. Ikaia had announced first, and Maya not long after. He remembered hearing her voice over the radio and seen Ikaia shaking hands of folks in the fields – both had worked for Kirito and so it seemed a natural fit for one of them to take over.

And then out of the cracks in the ground sprang Vasco. Nibbled away by the fact there was never enough water working in the high heat, or that their pay could hardly be stretched to feed all the mouths they had, he’d wanted to do something. Emma helped him to dream bigger and, crazy as it sounded, he got up on that old soap box and thrown his name in.

Somehow, when the dust settled, it wasn’t Fel or Miristioma that stepped into that lonely office in the justice building.

He wondered where he might’ve been if he hadn’t won – just how much would’ve played out differently if he’d retired back to being a farmhand and father.

(He’d never know that his stroke after the eighty-first would’ve killed him, that instead of being home and tended to, he’d have collapsed in the field – isn’t it funny how life works out?)

He sat on the edge of his desk with his legs hanging off the ground and his palms flat behind him. The afternoon sun shone pale yellow through the window behind him, and he stopped to stare at the photos that lined the wall.

Pictures of him cleaning up after the riot of the eighty-second. Photos the food banks he’d helped run. He and Emma laughing as he swore her in as a magistrate. His stern face looking over the remnants of the silos burning. And a smile of him with his cousins, brothers, and friends celebrating his last election win.

When he heard footsteps in the hall, Vasco stiffened and did his best to smile. These were big shoes for anyone to fill, but he wanted Nekane to know no matter what, he’d be there to help.

“Nekane!” He stood, too excited to hold back and got to his feet. “How are you doing? I’m so glad you could come. We have so much to talk about… if you want to! I’m just…”

He beamed.

“… excited for you.”