rain killesa | d4

They'd always kind of been unorthodox.

Real patriots of Four, the Killesa family had been a proud career family for generations. They had made their first fortune years back with a trusted fishing business and their wealth had only grown since. Rain and River were proud accomplishments in their family tree. Two healthy, beautiful baby boys that would be raised to be co-heirs to the Killesa vault, what more could their parents ask for?

They were raised with only the best that four had to offer, trained with the trident by their mother herself. The Killesa family only married careers, after all, all in effort to genetically create the perfect future Victor. It sounded cold but it was common enough in career districts, the story was hardly anything new.

Rain had it figured out that their parent's marriage was loveless by the time he was six. They never raised their voices at each other, never did anything to suggest otherwise, but in the same way he knew how to breathe, he knew they didn't love each other. Out of the public eye, they were barely ever in the same room together and if they were, a heavy quiet lay over everything like a blanket of snow.

Their mother wanted them light on their feet and insisted it was an important part of their training to learn dance. She had and her mother before her, so Rain and River were enrolled in ballet. That's all it was meant to be, just a small part of their training, but Rain found himself drawn to it so tightly that he'd spend hours in his and River's bedroom practising. He liked the way that the music was when it lived between his ears. It always seemed to find a way out again, down his arms, through his feet.

River was always fast, flowing. Rain gathered himself slowly and then went all at once. He was slow to anger, calm in even shitty situations to the point where it was lucky that River had him to reign him in. They were inseparable, always had been. Even when they didn't agree on something, the other sighed and went along with it anyway. And even though it took longer for him to get to that point, when Rain was mad enough to rage and storm, River always, always pulled him back.

They'd always known privilege. The classroom was just a formality, like most career families, learning was reserved for a few hours of the day and afternoons were spent in a dustbowl dance, back to back with his brother in the training grounds. People said it wasn't fair, that they could read each other's minds and that's how they always knew where to be. It was hard enough to beat them one on one, impossible to even try when they were together. River and Rain, Rain and River. They fed each other, an endless cycle.

Rain was the thinker when it came down to it. River liked to tell him often that he thought too much, was always two steps ahead when Rain wanted his brother to just stay with him for two seconds. He needed his brother's spontaneity though just a much as river needed his calm. But where River chose to spend his energy on sparring, Rain had always preferred dance. Six in the morning was for running with River but five was dancing, careful stretching and a concentration on balance.

Somehow he felt like he was the only one who saw it, the way things were falling apart in the reflection of their family's perfection. But if he was the only one who saw it, wasn't he just overthinking it? River was always telling him to loosen up a little and Rain could be loose. He liked to shut his eyes in the surf, feel the water pushing over him and pulling back. A morning swim after a long run had been their tradition for years. River and Rain lived on routine, even if River didn't know.

Mornings were running, swimming, school, training, dinner, homework, sneaking out the window, party, stumbling back, laughing, throwing up in the bushes, getting into a fight, falling apart together in the grass, watching the stars, making promises to each other, waking up in the morning, fishing, running. The routine was beginning to burn a hole through them both, a slow-acting acid that was eating away at the corners of their perfect lives. It was becoming unbearable.

One early morning as they were pushing their boat out, a shrouded figure approached them with a deal in mind. Rain and River didn't hesitate, kings of their own little world, nothing could touch them. It was simple, they'd sail out like always and take a woman and her daughter with them. At some point, they'd drift out close to where the fence ended and the forest began on the other side, the woman and daughter would get out and Rain and River would make two hundred dollars for their efforts.

They didn't need the money but the money wasn't the prize anyway.

For two boys raised for slaughter, it was the promise of the danger they faced.