Guldrin’s Gluttony: Family Bound by Speed & Food

The months seemed to fly by as Guldrin and Shiro threw themselves into their training, each carving out their niche of mastery. Guldrin's boundless creativity and relentless curiosity turned their workshop into a hub of invention, where every surface was cluttered with blueprints, prototypes, and gadgets that defied the very laws of conventional science.

Meanwhile, Shiro's wind magic had evolved into something truly breathtaking, a force of nature that could slice through steel or gently cradle a fallen leaf. Her control was unrivaled, her precision unmatched. Of course, this didn't stop her from occasionally using it to steal snacks off Guldrin's workbench or muss his carefully styled hair when he was too focused to notice.

But the crown jewel of Guldrin's innovation? His fishing sword. What had started as a whimsical project, a joke between himself and Shiro, had become a masterpiece of engineering and combat design. The blade, forged from a rare alloy he had painstakingly procured, was a marvel. It was light enough to dance in his hands like an extension of his arm, yet strong enough to endure the kind of force that would shatter lesser weapons.

The hilt concealed its most impressive feature: a nearly invisible, high-tensile fishing line that could extend and retract at will. The line wasn't for show or ascetics, it carried a micro-current that could stun or immobilize anything caught in its grasp. And the weapon itself was as versatile as it was deadly. One moment it was a sleek knife, the next, a razor-sharp sword. With a flick of his wrist, it could transform into a whip, the line maintaining its connection to the hilt with unyielding strength.

Shiro watched with a mix of awe and amusement as Guldrin tested the fishing sword's mechanisms. Standing on the far side of the room, he cast the line across the workshop, its faint hum barely audible before it latched onto a target and retracted with a crisp click.

"You're really taking the 'fishing' part of this way too seriously," Shiro teased, leaning casually against the workbench. "You already sold the knife design to Beckman. Why keep tinkering with the sword version? You can't even fish in the city!"

Guldrin didn't look up, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Fishing is an art, Shiro. Whether you're pulling in a fish or yanking an enemy into a kill corridor, precision is everything. Plus, imagine their face when they realize they got taken down by a glorified fishing pole. It's poetic justice." He checked the progress on his Innovator class with a satisfied nod.

Class: Innovator 9%

'Nice,' he thought. 'Every percentage feels like my brain's unlocking. Ideas are practically flooding out of me now.'

Shiro rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide her grin. "Fine, Mr. Genius Inventor. Just make sure Letty doesn't catch you testing it on the neighbors' laundry lines again. Or their pets. I don't think your charm will save you this time."

"That was one time!" Guldrin protested. "And I wasn't chasing the cat! I was-"

Emily, lounging nearby, interrupted with a sarcastic meow. Her golden eyes glinted with mischief. "Yeah, yeah, real funny," her expression seemed to say. "Maybe I should sharpen my claws on that fancy line spool of yours."

Shiro burst out laughing, and even Guldrin had to chuckle. "Traitor," he muttered at Emily, who flicked her tail dismissively and started grooming herself.

Amid the banter, Shiro couldn't help but admire how far they'd come. Their little team, Guldrin, Shiro, and even Emily, had grown stronger, closer, and, let's face it, weirder. And now, there was Skye.

The "emancipation of Skye," as Shiro had jokingly dubbed it, had gone off without a hitch. With a few signatures, proof of income, and a conveniently purchased apartment later, Skye was officially on her own. Or at least, that was the plan. For some reason, though, she couldn't bring herself to face Guldrin directly and had asked Shiro to bring Letty or Mia as her guarantors.

"Probably for the best," Shiro thought wryly. She could imagine the chaos that would ensue if Skye's sharp tongue met Guldrin's stoic demeanor.

Back in the workshop, Guldrin set the fishing sword down, wiping his hands on a rag. "What do you think?" he asked, his tone unusually serious.

Shiro tilted her head, studying the weapon. "Honestly? It's incredible. But-"

"But what?"

"Just promise me one thing." She crossed her arms, a playful smirk creeping onto her face. "If you ever use it to fish for real, you'll let me record it. I want to see you try to reel in a trout with that thing."

Guldrin chuckled, shaking his head. "Deal. But only if you promise to stop stealing my snacks with your wind magic."

"No promises," Shiro shot back, sticking her tongue out while she floated his bag of chips from next to him.

Even amid their relentless training and covert activities, they found moments to laugh, to remind themselves of the peaceful moments that anchored them. For all the weight they carried, they never forgot the importance of staying grounded.

One evening, the garage's basement was alive with activity. Guldrin hunched over his workbench, surrounded by an array of wires, tools, and blueprints, while Shiro twirled a pen between her fingers, her sharp eyes analyzing the latest gadget. 

Emily, ever the vigilant feline companion, lounged on a nearby shelf, her tail flicking lazily as she watched the duo with mild curiosity while trying and failing to keep her eyes open.

The familiar creak of the basement door broke the tension of their work. Letty stepped into the room, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. Her expression was a mix of curiosity and mild suspicion.

"You two have been spending a lot of time down here," she remarked, her tone casual but laced with underlying concern. "Care to explain what's so important that you're missing dinner? Mia made chicken tortillas, refried beans, fresh chips, and salsa."

Guldrin and Shiro froze, exchanging a quick glance. Their usual quick-witted responses seemed to falter under Letty's scrutinizing gaze. Finally, Guldrin broke the silence, his voice calm and even.

"Just working on some harmless inventions, Mom. You know, keeping busy. We will be up in a few minutes."

Letty's eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze flicking to the small device in Guldrin's hand. She didn't press further but handed them a plate of food. "Well, whatever it is, don't forget you're still kids, even if you're growing up. Don't take on more than you can handle. And don't make me come down here again because you forgot to eat."

"Thanks, Mom! I will try to not make you have to come down again."

As the door closed behind her, Shiro let out a long breath. "That was close."

"Too close," Guldrin muttered, eyeing the plate of food before turning back to the device. "We need to be more careful. I can't let her see what I make… She will forbid me from continuing."

Shiro's eyes sparkled with mischief. "So, what's next? Another gadget to 'keep busy'?" She teased, "But really, what is that thing? I've seen some interesting tech going into that thing. Kinda curious to see what it does."

Guldrin smirked, holding up a small, disk-shaped object. "This is a Flash Disk. If I've done this right, it should emit a burst of light that blinds anyone nearby for ten seconds, it may or may not do more, further testing is needed... Completely reusable."

Shiro's grin widened. "Let me guess, you want me to test it?"

"Rock-paper-scissors," Guldrin challenged, holding out his fist.

"Deal. I always win games."

True to her word, Shiro triumphed effortlessly, as she always did, leaving Guldrin to bear the brunt of the Flash Disk. With a click, the device activated, flooding the room with an intense burst of light. Even with his eyes closed, Guldrin was momentarily overwhelmed, stumbling back as a wave of vertigo swept over him.

Shiro, laughed uncontrollably, donning her flash-proof glasses as she observed his disoriented state. "Successful test?" she teased.

"Definitely," Guldrin groaned, steadying himself. "I'll add a few of these to the next care package for Rika. But remind me to make a warning label for the dizziness."

Emily meowed from her perch, her tone dripping with feline sarcasm. "Maybe next time, test it on yourselves a bit more gently. Or better yet, let me sharpen my claws on it, that thing is evil…." She whined and covered her eyes in annoyance.

The days that followed were marked by increasing tension. Letty's growing suspicions added a layer of complexity to Guldrin and Shiro's already precarious balancing act. While their covert work thrived, they couldn't ignore the sharp intuition of Letty, who had begun keeping a closer eye on them.

"Time to cover our tracks," Shiro declared one morning, her voice resolute.

"What do you have in mind?" Guldrin asked, adjusting the settings on a small drone he was testing.

"Mundane activities," Shiro replied with a smirk. "We start helping out around the shop, doing chores, running errands, anything that makes us look like normal kids."

Guldrin raised an eyebrow. "Normal kids don't usually fix carburetors or program drones in their free time."

"Exactly," Shiro said, tapping her temple. "But we can fake it well enough to keep Mother-in-law off our backs."

"I think that will just make her more suspicious but sure." He shrugged,

Their plan went into action immediately. They began spending more time in the shop, enthusiastically offering to help with tasks they usually avoided. Letty, while appreciative of their newfound eagerness, wasn't entirely convinced. She played along, allowing them their illusion of subtlety while keeping an even closer watch on their activities.

One afternoon, Letty wandered into the garage, her sharp instincts tingling as she spotted Guldrin hunched over a device that looked like it belonged on a spaceship rather than in their home. She folded her arms and tilted her head, observing him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"What's this?" she asked, nodding toward the strange contraption that buzzed faintly, emitting an occasional spark.

Guldrin froze mid-screw turn, his mind racing for a plausible explanation. "Uh, just a prototype for a... high-tech coffee grinder," he blurted out, forcing a casual grin.

Letty arched a skeptical eyebrow. "A coffee grinder? That looks more like something you'd see in a spy movie or a Syfi show."

"Well," Guldrin stammered, "it's for grinding... uh, really tough beans. You know, experimental stuff."

The truth, of course, was that it wasn't only a coffee grinder. The device was a multifunctional tool that could disrupt communications, skim encrypted data, credit cards, and the like, and even clone a phone's identity of anyone who came within a certain range. Perfectly harmless, as long as you don't think too hard about its uses.

Letty gave him a long, measuring look before shaking her head with a smirk. "As long as it doesn't explode, I'm fine with it. But if I smell smoke or hear a boom, we're having a serious talk." With that, she turned on her heel and left, muttering something about kids and their gadgets.

Once she was out of earshot, Guldrin let out a sigh of relief, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "Too close," he muttered.

From behind him, Shiro's voice chimed in, dry and amused. "A coffee grinder? Really? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? It really does grind coffee, so technically it isn't a lie?" Guldrin said, his grin a perfect mix of sheepish and smug as he adjusted the oddly complex "coffee grinder."

Shiro raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the workbench. "Sure, if grinding coffee also means hacking into secure networks. Very convincing."

Guldrin shrugged. "Multifunctional appliances are all the rage these days."

Despite moments like these, where their double lives teetered on the edge of discovery, Guldrin and Shiro made an effort to maintain the grounding routines of family life. It wasn't always easy, balancing covert projects that could very well land them in trouble with the warm, chaotic bustle of the Toretto household required a finesse they were still learning. But they both knew how important it was to hold onto those moments of normalcy.

Dinner had become their sacred ritual, a time when gadgets, blueprints, and secret devices were swapped for stories, laughter, and shared meals. It was a time when everyone was present, reminding themselves that, for all the high-tech escapades, this was their family. And no one threw a slipper quite like Letty when she caught wind of their mischief.

The infamous slipper incident was already the stuff of family legend. Guldrin had, in a moment of distraction, let slip a bit too much about one of his "projects" during dinner. He had rambled on about how efficient coffee grinders could also, theoretically, intercept radio waves. Letty's eyes had narrowed, her infamous slipper materializing from nowhere.

"Efficient, huh? Let's test that on your excuses! No tech talk at the table."

The slipper flew with the precision of a guided missile, hitting its mark squarely. Guldrin yelped, clutching his head in mock agony, while the rest of the family burst into laughter. Even Shiro, usually the composed one, was nearly in tears.

After the laughter subsided and Guldrin sheepishly ate a forkful of mashed potatoes with the slipper resting ominously beside his plate, Letty leaned back in her chair, smirking. "Think of it as a learning experience."

Shiro, always ready with a quip, had chimed in. "You're lucky it wasn't a boot. Mother-in-law's got good aim."

Moments like these became the glue holding their double lives together. No matter how high the stakes or how secretive their projects grew, the laughter and warmth at the dinner table reminded them why they worked so hard. It was also a great deterrent, Guldrin hadn't rambled about "efficiency" since.

Now, as they tinkered in the garage late at night, the echoes of that dinner lingered. Shiro paused from her work and looked at Guldrin. "You ever think about how lucky we are?"

Guldrin glanced up, his grin softening. "All the time. Even if it comes with airborne footwear."

Shiro chuckled, tossing a rag at him. "Well, let's make sure we keep earning it."

In the dim light of the garage, amidst gadgets and half-finished projects, the two shared a rare, quiet moment of gratitude. It wasn't perfect, but it was theirs, and that was enough.

—

–

-

Meanwhile, in the heart of Washington, D.C., General Beckman adjusted her uniform and steeled herself for an encounter she never thought would emerge. The name Rindo Goldblood, better known as Rindo Kobayashi, had long been whispered in government circles with an air of both frustration and intrigue. Rindo, with her almost supernatural ability to evade attention, had been a thorn in the side of those who wanted to unravel the mysteries surrounding her family. 

The Goldbloods, after all, were a shadowy powerhouse, operating in plain sight yet utterly opaque. They controlled vast swaths of the global economy, their reach evident, but their true intentions and activities were an enigma for any who didn't carry their blood.

Today, however, the government has a chance to breach that veil of secrecy. After months of elaborate and ultimately failed negotiations alongside countless dead ends, Beckman had managed to secure a meeting with Rindo under the guise of a high-paying culinary contract. The ruse was bold, almost absurdly so, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The meeting venue was a private, high-security space, styled more like a luxury dining room than a government facility. Every detail had been meticulously planned, from the understated decor to the handpicked wine meant to impress a chef of Rindo's caliber. Beckman paced the room once before pausing to check her watch. Time moved slower when the stakes were this high.

The Goldbloods were a family cloaked in mystery, their influence woven seamlessly across industries and economic ventures on a global scale. Once a towering powerhouse, their legacy had been nearly extinguished in a devastating near-eradication. 

Despite their diminished numbers, the veil of secrecy surrounding their true purpose remained impenetrable, defying even the most resourceful intelligence agencies' attempts to unravel their enigmatic existence.

Beckman had a hunch that Guldrin, the long-lost scion heir of the Goldblood dynasty, might hold the key to unraveling it, and, by extension, Rindo could be the bridge to reconnecting him with his family and in turn giving them an 'in'. That is, if she didn't skewer them all with her sharp tongue and sharper instincts first.

Rindo arrived at the designated venue with her usual blend of grace and irreverence. Her aura radiated confidence, and her reputation as a culinary genius was matched only by her disdain for those who underestimated her. Beckman rose to greet her, offering a measured smile.

"Ms. Kobayashi," Beckman began, her tone professional yet warm. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

Rindo's sharp golden eyes studied her for a moment before a faint, knowing smirk tugged at her lips. "Your offer was intriguing. I'll admit, I was curious. But let's get one thing straight… If this turns out to be some bureaucratic circus act, I'll make sure no one in this government gets so much as a sandwich from me again."

Beckman chuckled softly, appreciating the candor. "Fair enough. But I assure you, while the contract was indeed a way to facilitate this meeting, it isn't entirely without merit. Your skills are... legendary. I fully intend to honor the culinary arrangement. That said, there's something far more pressing we need to discuss."

Rindo arched an eyebrow, lowering herself into the elegantly appointed chair with an air of casual dominance. She leaned back, one leg crossed over the other, as if daring Beckman to test her patience. "You have my attention, for now. But make it good. I don't play games when it comes to food."

Beckman nodded, her expression shifting to one of quiet resolve. "You've been searching for someone, your brother. Someone we believe you've been looking for alongside your mother for years. We believe we have found him."

Rindo's expression didn't falter, but the air around her seemed to tighten, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. Beckman continued, her voice steady but tinged with genuine empathy.

"We believe he's been missing from your lives for years. But for him, it's been even longer, his memories of his life before the age of ten are gone. He's 15 now, living under the name Guldrin Toretto."

A flicker of something, hope, doubt, perhaps even frustration, passed through Rindo's eyes. "And where, exactly, did you find him?"

Beckman slid a manila folder across the table. "It's a long story. The short version is this: we flagged his name during an unrelated investigation. A local café and garage owner took him in after catching him stealing food. They eventually adopted him. Since then, he's built a life with his new family."

Rindo opened the folder, her eyes scanning the documents. Photos of a wiry teenager with sharp features, and hints of mischief in his expression, stared back at her. The accompanying records detailed his tumultuous journey, living on the streets, the adoption by the Torettos, and the family's subsequent entanglement with law enforcement.

"And this 'adoptive family'?" Rindo asked, her tone measured. "What do they have to do with all this?"

Beckman hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "The Torettos are... complicated. His adoptive father, Dominic Toretto, is currently on the run, leaving Guldrin in the care of his adoptive mother, Letty, and his aunt, Mia. Despite their circumstances, they've provided him with a stable and loving home."

Rindo closed the folder, her expression unreadable. "Toretto… It all comes full circle doesn't it" She mumbled before assuming a serious visage and spoke, "And you expect me to... what? Walk in there, announce I'm his sister, and disrupt whatever life he's managed to piece together?"

Beckman shook her head. "Not at all. We wanted to bring this to your attention because we believe he has a right to know his origins, and because we believe you and your mother deserve closure. How you proceed is entirely up to you."

Rindo leaned back, crossing her arms as she mulled over the information. Despite her exterior calm, her mind was racing. The boy in the photos was undeniably her brother. The resemblance was uncanny, and the idea that he'd been living under the care of a family, flawed as they might be, brought a strange mix of relief and frustration.

"He doesn't remember anything before he was ten?" she asked, her voice softer now.

Beckman nodded. "That's correct. The amnesia seems to have wiped away any recollection of his early life. But he's been made aware of you and your mother. He's curious. Cautious, but curious."

Beckman adjusted her posture, her hands clasped together as she leaned forward slightly, her words measured and deliberate. "Guldrin has found a friend who seems to mean more to him than even he likely realizes yet, a connection that's beginning to blossom into something special. He's written a book, a real book, with insight and heart, the kind of thing you'd expect from someone well beyond his years. He's clever, resourceful, and, frankly, one of the brightest teens I've seen in a long time."

Rindo raised an eyebrow, her casual yet sharp demeanor unwavering. "A book, you say? At his age? Well, it seems he's inherited our family's flair for the extraordinary."

A flicker of amusement crossed Beckman's face. "Indeed, he has. But that's not why we're here, Ms. Kobayashi. Ordinarily, we wouldn't be involved in such personal matters. But one of our operatives, due to circumstances I can't fully disclose, recognized him as the missing heir your family has been searching for all this time. His resemblance to the records we managed to uncover was undeniable. What followed was an exhaustive effort to confirm his identity and, let me tell you, reaching you was no small feat."

Rindo leaned back in her chair, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "That sounds about right. The Goldblood family doesn't exactly roll out the red carpet for unexpected visitors. But I suppose this means you've done your homework. What's the catch?"

Beckman couldn't help but chuckle at Rindo's directness. "No catch, Ms. Kobayashi, though I'll admit this isn't just a courtesy call. We saw an opportunity to bridge a gap, one that might otherwise remain closed. Guldrin has been living with his adoptive family, the Torettos. He's deeply loved and cared for, but when we intervened for reasons I can't disclose here, he learned the truth about his origins, about you and your mother."

Rindo's expression softened, her usual guarded demeanor slipping ever so slightly. "He knows? About us?"

Beckman nodded, her tone carrying the weight of sincerity. "He does. And let me be clear, Ms. Kobayashi, this boy isn't just another name in a file or a face on a screen for us. He's a young man who's carved out a life for himself against odds that would have crushed most. His adoptive family loves him fiercely, and they've done everything they can to support him. But even with that love, I believe there's a part of him that's curious, about where he came from, about the family he's never had the chance to meet."

She paused, letting her words sink in, before adding with a spark of admiration, "And the boy isn't simply surviving; he's thriving. He has a mind that's... well, let's just say we've had analysts compare him to a young Tony Stark. He's creating things that have our top engineers scratching their heads in awe, and, frankly, a little envy. He's brilliant, Ms. Kobayashi. The kind of brilliant that changes the game."

Rindo's fingers drummed against the table in a steady rhythm, her sharp gaze softening with a flicker of vulnerability. The weight of Beckman's words was impossible to ignore, yet her guard remained up, if only by habit. "And you think I can offer him that? Answers, closure... a sense of belonging?"

Beckman leaned forward slightly, her expression earnest. "I think you can offer him something no one else can, a piece of himself that's been missing for years. But more than that, I think you'll find that he's not the only one who's been missing something."

For the first time, Rindo's trademark smirk faded, replaced by a contemplative stillness. The thought of reconnecting with her long-lost brother wasn't only surprising, it was overwhelming. She had braced herself for the idea that they might never find him, that he might remain an unanswered question in her family's legacy. But now, with Beckman's words hanging in the air, the answer she had been searching for was suddenly within reach. And for the first time in years, hope felt real. Even if it was accompanied by an underlying fear of rejection and hate for having not found him sooner.

(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)