A/N: I've finished the anime you guys! And I wanna cry. I'm so happy, proud, sad- god I'm everything right now. So I'll just write now to calm myself. I just wanted to say that I'm well aware Irina's age is 20, but for plot purposes I've decided to make her 23.
Your age: 6
Irina's age: 15
Your smile was contagious. It brought joy and hope to those around you. Especially to your mother. Your pure innocence brightened even the gloomiest days, not just for her, but for everyone around you.
After Y/M/N Jelavić never returned from an assignment she was presumed compromised, and a few weeks later, dead. This left you, her only child, alone. Your father had left her before your birth, and Serbia had agents running numerous searches to find any of your remaining relatives. During the search, your smile disappeared. You were placed under special government care and supervised at all times. After all, your mother was a high ranked officer of the Military Security Agency of Serbia. There was no doubt your mother was murdered by an enemy of her charge, and knew her job. That meant you, being her daughter, could also be a possible target. Luckily, the chosen officer who took you in was Agent Teodora Aralica, a close friend in your mother's department. In fact, you often stayed with her when your mother was away. But it didn't bring your smile back.
It took a while to locate Irina, your aunt, and by the time she finally was found in Paris, you had already adjusted to your life with Agent Aralica. Your already tight bond was strengthened even further with you now living with her. You didn't want to leave. After all, who else would let you have tulumbe and krem pitas for breakfast and eat them with you? Her apartment was basically your second home. It was small, basic, and not in the best area, but still, to you it was home. It had all the necessities and more. You even had your own room that the two of you set up the first time you slept over. The government didn't give you a choice though. You couldn't stay with Teodora forever, no matter how you wanted to. All they could do was hope you adapted to your aunt as well as you had to your mother's colleague.
The day you were to be moved out hadn't gotten off too promising. For starters, Agent Aralica had woken you up at five in the morning. She'd tried to explain that you had to leave early to board the plane, but the concept went completely beyond your sleepy, six year old mind.
"C'mon, Y/N, I know you don't like this, and honestly, neither do I, but we have to." You heard Teodora sigh when the lump on the bed that was you refused to budge.
"Alright, I didn't want to do this..." She began taking out your clothes. "No!" You bolted up. "I wanna choose my own clothes!"
You always loved fashion. Any kind. With your mother's profession taking her all around the world, she was expected to blend in with them. The fact that something as simple as an outfit could make or break her illusion was all so cool to you. The government provided her with outfits matching the local style of the specific area, and in the end she got to keep them. Sometimes it was just a plain t-shirt with foreign writing and jeans, while others required exotic skirts and jewelry. Either way, you were exposed to whatever type of style that particular country wore. The different patterns and textures intrigued you, and eventually lead you on to studying them further. First it started with fashion coloring books. Next you'd have your mother bring back style magazines from work, where you'd trace outfits the models wore. Over the weeks you'd acquired a rather impressive knowledge of fashions that mixed and fashions that didn't. Along the way you also picked up in different types of materials, and soon had your favorites for each season. Then you decided it was time to start picking out your own outfits. At first, your mother was skeptical. Most outfits four year olds pulled together themselves were...hard on the eyes. It was a always a gentle but firm "no" until one day she couldn't take your puppy dog eyes and gave in. In hopes of this, you already had a stunning outfit picked out and waiting. You'd poured all your knowledge hue and patterns into it, giving it everything you had.
It was a simple outfit, suitable for the warm, summer weather, but the patterns and colors complimented each other perfectly. You decided to go with solid colors but spice it up with textures. The outfit consisted of a cute white cotton tank top that had a ruffly f/c collar and a pair of f/c shorts with laced white cuffs. You accessorized it with a matching f/c headband and f/c and s/f/c rubber bracelets. On your feet you wore white sandals with s/f/c buckles on them.
Your mother was in shock. You looked like you just stepped out of one of the magazines she'd gotten you. She was so proud of her little girl that she not only let you pick out your own clothes but also have a say in what she wore on jobs as well. Up until the mission she never returned from.
You changed out of your pajamas and into the same outfit you first picked yourself. after a small tantrum, ate a regular, healthy breakfast before the squad car arrived to bring you and an escort agent to a private jet base.
You didn't know much about your aunt. You'd heard her name a few times, she never visited and your parents avoided bringing her up. You knew her name was Irina Jelavić, and that she was fifteen years old and your mother's younger sister. Teodora had told you that Irina moved around a lot, but other than that, nothing. She was a mystery. You at least hoped she had a decent sense of style.
When you landed in Paris you were immediately lead by a guard to a private room. The interior was simple but professional. The mahogany table and black chairs were standard, but appeared huge to your tiny four year old vision. A few feet away, a dark filing cabinet sat in one of the corners next to a large window. The blinds were drawn, and the only light source was from a large floor lamp on the other side of the window. As the guard gently ushered you inside, you saw thar three people were already there. A man, a woman, and a younger girl. The man had a defined face and a gaze that seemed to pin you in place as you walked by. The woman had a kinder appearance. When you looked at the youngest of the three, the girl, she smiled at you. It reminded you almost of your mother's. You forced a shy smile back.
Once you were settled into a chair across from your aunt, you were finally able to get a good look at the strangers. You were surprised. The blonde across from you looked much younger than your mother, but there was no doubt she was related. You saw some of your own features in her. The two of you had a similar facial structure, and the same striking shade of blue eyes. Above all however, was her fashion sense. You noticed it straight away. It was exactly something you would pick for yourself when you got older. She wore a light cropped silver denim jacket with laced-tipped pockets. Underneath was a sheer, deep turquoise camisole. When you first came in, you had noticed her pale sea green skirt was flowy, but not overly so, and made of a material you recognized as some sort of chiffon based blend. The look was completed with a pair of cork woven wedges strapped to her feet with two white straps of silk that crossed over each other and tied behind her ankles. The whole ensemble was incredible posh, and the darker colors mixed with the light brilliantly complimented her blonde hair.
The man cleared his throat, startling you. "Miss. Y/N, we are so glad to see you've made it here safely," he began. "My name is Lorvo. On your right is my partner, Olga, and the young lady in front of you is your Aunt Irina. I understand that this is all very big for you..." He glanced at Irina, who was staring at her nails and avoiding his gaze. You had the feeling this was just as tough for her as it was for you, if not even more. "For both of you." Lorvo's eyes settled back on your's. "But we hope you grow acustomed to it. Your aunt is still quite young, Miss. Y/N, so for the time being, your care currently falls on me and Olga. Feel free to come to us for anything you may need, but we also encourage you turn to Irina as well." He paused for acknowledgement from you that you were listening.
You were listening alright, but you were too confused to actually understand any of what he meant. You did however realize, that this was one of those situations where it was better to just smile and nod. Fake it till you make it, as they say. So you did.
"Excellent. For now, Olga and I will leave you and Irina to get acquainted." He smiled as the two rose and headed for the door. "And one more thing. Welcome to Paris. We leave for Austria in three days." With that he closed the door.
Silence.
You shifted awkwardly in your seat, unsure what to do. What do you say to someone you've never met before? Someone you now have to live with? Someone who's apparently your aunt?
Well, might as well start out with what you both clearly had an eye for.
"I um really love your jacket," you started softly. "The lightweight denim is a nice summer pairing with your chiffon skirt."
Irina stared at you in slight shock, causing you to feel even more uncomfortable as time ticked by with her doing nothing. Finally she recovered and slowly leaned forward against the table. "You...know my clothing material?" Her voice came out quietly, but there was no mistaking the slight tremor of excitement underneath it.
"Uh huh," you nodded. "It suits you really nicely."
Her gaze softened and she stood up, and made her way around the table until she was right in front of you. She knelt down, taking your hands in her's.
"I think you and I are going to get along just fine, kid."
By the end of the day, you were grinning back at her, and this time, with a true, genuine smile. Your baby pearly whites were on full display for the first time in months. For the first time since your mother died.
Yes, she was at the time, a stranger, but you couldn't help it. You'd only known her for a few short hours and yet it felt like an eternity.
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