Street Woman Fighter S2 Oneshots

A Butterfly's Embrace

Your love for one other grew stronger with time, becoming a source of comfort and support in the difficult path that is adolescence. The shared dreams, whispered confidences, and stolen glances became the fabric of your story.

The idea of university loomed on the horizon as the final year of high school neared. The uncertainty of diverging pathways put your love to the test. Graduation was bittersweet, with a vow to reunite resonating through sad goodbyes.

The following chapter took place at university, where the challenges of adulthood put your relationship to the test. Late-night phone calls took the place of shared nights, and text messages became the lifeline that kept your connection alive. During these years, the first evidence of darkness appeared within Bada's heart.

As sadness wrapped its grasp around Bada's spirit, the lively soul you fell in love with became a shadow of itself. Late-night phone calls that used to be filled with laughing now bore the weight of silent grief. You could only offer words of comfort and love across the digital gap, helpless and miles away.

As the years unfolded, the facade of Bada's bubbly exterior began to crack, revealing the depth of her internal struggles. The enthusiastic partner who once radiated brightness became disguised in darkness, and her laughter became a distant echo of a time when joy came easily.

The indicators of Bada's inner pain became too obvious to ignore during your college years. She withdrew from social activities, her once-enthusiastic participation in gatherings replaced by a haunting isolation. Conversations that were once lively and vibrant became increasingly sombre as the light in her eyes faded.

Late-night conversations that were once brimming with shared ambitions and aspirations had turned into hushed confessions of misery. Bada confided in you, confessing the tyranny of depression that had enslaved her. She described the tremendous emptiness that seemed to swallow her whole, leaving her in a state of permanent numbness.

Bada's pain weighed heavily on your shoulders, and you felt helpless in the face of her wordless agony. Desperate to help, you encouraged her to seek assistance from professionals and to confide in someone who might guide her through the confusing web of her emotions. But, like an insidious shadow, sadness had a way of distorting reality and convincing its sufferer that reaching out was pointless.

Bada's cheerful energy had been replaced with a listless version of herself. Her favourite activities had become burdensome, and even the simplest tasks seemed overwhelming. Every day seemed like a battle against an unseen power aimed at putting out the brightness within her.

Your love for Bada was strong, but the fact of sadness is that it rarely has simple remedies. As you watched her slowly sink into the abyss, you felt powerless, wondering how to save someone who appeared determined to avoid you.

There were brief periods of hope, when Bada would emerge from the shadows and enjoy the warmth of the world. But these were temporary times, like rays of sunlight bursting through a stormy sky, only to be swallowed up by the gathering clouds again.

Not because of a lack of love, but because despair had built obstacles that even the most sincere relationship difficult to overcome. Bada became a prisoner of her own mind, and you were a steadfast witness to a never-ending conflict.

Despite the difficulties, your love and dedication endured. You remained at Bada's side, providing a soothing presence even when words failed. The struggles with depression cast a long shadow over your relationship, but the love you shared became a lifeline—a flickering flame that refused to be extinguished.

Bada's gift of the rose gold necklace to you in the middle of her personal agony was a touching gesture, a statement of love that endured even in the face of misery. Little did you know that the year after this meaningful present would be the last you'd spend with Bada, and that the necklace with its delicate butterfly pendant would become a lasting remembrance of a love tale filled with both joy and grief.

As you rummaged through the neglected boxes, each containing a piece of your past, the air in the garage was thick with the aroma of dust and memories. Old photographs, paintings from your childhood, and even a collection of hockey awards brought you back in time. You discovered a small, dazzling jewellery box among the remains of days gone by, and a warm smile graced your lips at the memory it held.

The box, covered with various shades of blue glitter, was a memorial to your childhood best friend and girlfriend, Bada's, dedication. She had been saving for it for two and a half years, a symbol of the lovely affection that had characterised your friendship since the beginning. A flood of childhood memories washed over you as you ran your fingertips over the gleaming surface.

You took a deep breath and opened the box, showing the rose gold necklace that had adorned your neck the year before she passed.

As the weight of grief rested on your chest, tears welled up in your eyes. "I really miss you, Bada. I hope you're doing better than you were. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you or save you," you broke down your pain echoing in the garage's silence.

Unbeknownst to you, Bada stood behind you, mournful eyes on you. She knelt down beside you, wrapped her arms around you, and caressed your hair, a silent presence in a world where her touch was ignored. "It's not your fault, Butterfly. I was the one who couldn't hang on in this life. You're the reason I stayed for so long. You should be happy."

Your body was overflowing with tears, a frantic attempt to relieve the sorrow that had been growing since her departure. "My sweet girl," Bada said quietly, her voice a soothing breeze in the garage's silence.
As you continued to mourn, Bada's ghostly hug provided some solace. She hoped she could brush your tears away and tell you that the love you shared had been the anchor that had held her grounded for so long.

But the gap between the living and the dead remained, leaving Bada as nothing more than an imaginary witness in your most private times of grief.

And so, the garage held the echoes of a love that transcended the boundaries of life and death—a love that, even in the face of tragedy, refused to fade away.