At weddings, it was usually the parents who held their children's hands and walked them toward the officiant. You rarely saw children dragging their parents to the altar. In any case, today's ceremony had very little to do with Bella and Natasha.
They didn't have to give speeches, catch bouquets, or do anything complicated. The two of them just sat obediently—standing when they were supposed to stand, applauding when applause was needed. That was it.
After the wedding, the newlyweds promptly got romantic and flew off to Spain for their honeymoon. Amid everyone's blessings, Charlie and Samantha rushed to the airport with glowing faces.
As for the two "bonus daughters" they left behind?
Figure it out yourselves.
With nothing else to do, the two girls ran into the forest to hunt.
Bella soon noticed that Natasha's marksmanship had improved by more than just a little compared to when they were fighting spiders.
She could guess the reason, but still pretended not to know. "Why did your shooting suddenly get so good?"
"Natural talent," Natasha replied smugly. "Don't be jealous."
Of course she wouldn't mention that she'd been grinding her aim like crazy at a S.H.I.E.L.D. training base—under professional instructors, with proper facilities. Of course she'd improved fast.
Bella was genuinely surprised.
She herself had put in plenty of effort. With her physical strength, Shaw's guidance, and frequent wilderness practice, she'd thought her marksmanship was already decent. And yet now, it felt like Natasha was roughly on par with her.
Could talent really make that much difference?
The two admired each other's shooting in silence—each convinced the other was impressive—and both secretly resolved to practice even harder next time.
After marksmanship came close combat.
The dense forest outside Forks was rarely visited, far better than the small groves in Los Angeles parks. A perfect sparring ground.
Bella wielded a proper rapier. Natasha used a collapsible baton.
In close combat, Bella held an absolute advantage.
Barbossa's so-called "lifelong swordsmanship" was, frankly, overrated. Who'd ever seen a pirate captain who didn't drink, didn't chase women, and instead practiced sword forms alone on deck? Pirates weren't sword saints. For martial arts, "good enough" was usually enough.
That said, Barbossa clearly had trained hard in his youth—his fundamentals were solid. Which meant Bella's fundamentals were solid too. Against a beginner like Natasha, the result was a one-sided beatdown.
In shooting, Natasha was stronger. In melee combat, Bella crushed her completely.
Exhausted, the two collapsed onto the grass, lying side by side and chatting.
"Where did you even learn rapier fencing?" Natasha asked.
"Carlisle Cullen taught me," Bella replied casually. "You met him—the tall, middle-aged doctor at the wedding."
She spun a story on the spot about being favored by an "old mentor" who taught her unique skills. Thirty percent truth, seventy percent lies. Even if Natasha confronted Carlisle, she wouldn't get anything useful out of him.
"That guy?" Natasha frowned. "Now that you mention it... he did give off some dangerous vibes."
Bella nodded vigorously. "Stay away from him. He's very dangerous."
For the current Natasha, facing a vampire would be suicide. For her bargain-bin sister's safety, distance was the best policy.
They played around in Forks for half a month, then returned to Los Angeles together.
The corpses at the house had been taken care of by the Winchester father and son. Old lady Constance, with her many crimes, was now a wanted fugitive. The new house had no remaining problems.
Dragging suitcases of all sizes, the two finally walked into the house—utterly worn out.
After getting used to a small town like Forks, returning to Los Angeles felt jarring.
They'd been stuck in highway traffic for half the day. The moment Bella stepped inside, she kicked off her high heels. There was a difference between being a college student and a high schooler—at least now she tried to dress a bit more maturely. Pretending to be green and clueless all the time was getting tiresome.
"Did you notice someone watching us from the street corner earlier?" Natasha asked suddenly.
After agent training, her senses were far sharper than before—especially when it came to being observed.
"Really? I didn't feel anything," Bella replied, unconcerned. "Must be my beauty attracting attention."
Natasha ignored the narcissism and hauled her suitcase upstairs.
Bella flopped on the sofa for a bit, then went to shower.
The house was big, which meant plenty of rooms—and bathrooms. Everyone now had their own. They missed the old chaotic crowding a little, but bathing was undeniably more relaxing.
When Bella came out barefoot, wrapped in a towel with her hair coiled up, Natasha had already set up the console and started gaming in the living room.
"Such a child," Bella mocked.
Natasha didn't even look at her. "Still better than someone who's flat all over."
"You're asking for it! Give me a controller!"
Bella sat right down on the floor, let her hair fall loose, grabbed a controller, and launched into battle.
The console wasn't Sony—this world didn't have Sony at all. It was a so-called "next-gen console" developed by Yashida Industries. They were playing a game similar to Ninja Gaiden.
Their teamwork was nonexistent. Both played lone-wolf style, relying purely on reflexes to brute-force their way through.
"Your finger speed's pretty good," Natasha sneered. "Get a lot of practice on your own time?"
Bella leaned over. "Yours aren't slow either. Very flexible."
"You're about to die!"
"How is that possible? My skills are god-tier!"
They traded insults nonstop, stabbing at each other with sarcasm. They didn't look like friends, didn't quite look like sisters either—something vague and indescribable sat between them.
"I'm thirsty. Get me a beer," Natasha said.
"Kids can't drink."
"...Then get one for yourself too?"
"That works!"
Natasha slowly looked up, eyes suddenly seductive. "You go get it. Charlie said you're supposed to take care of me."
Bella wasn't backing down.
She bit her lip, putting on a fragile expression, even tugging the hem of her towel upward slightly. "Look at my legs—aren't they especially pale? That's because I drove all day. I don't have the strength to stand. You go."
Both were too lazy to move. Both wanted the other to fetch drinks. The cute act failed completely.
"Remember what Charlie told you," Bella pressed. "I'm a poor, traumatized sister who suffered severe psychological damage during the Prosperity Town spider incident..."
"Ouch—don't make me laugh!" Natasha shoved her. "You didn't look traumatized when you were studying those spider legs. If anything, I'm the injured one. Thinking about those spiders still makes me sick..."
The mention of spiders instantly annoyed Bella.
She poked Natasha's shoulder. "Aunt Samantha told me to keep you active. You need more exercise. Look at your calves—getting soft. As your older sister, I have a responsibility for your health."
She smiled sweetly.
"Go on. Be a good girl."