The story with no beginning.

Festival

The hero league organized a festival in Isabella's honor, and everyone in town was invited. But as important as it was, Irie couldn't slide her legs off the coziness of her bed, which she had been sleeping on for hours. Her eyes were heavy, threatening to spill open at any moment, as if the tiredness had consumed her whole body.

Especially because she'd done nothing else but cry herself to sleep.

Her hands wipe at her tears as Beverly crouches at the end of her bed, a soft gaze etched on her face. Wearing a plain sweater she stole from Jacey as it reaches her upper thighs, Beverly gently strokes Irie's arm and caresses her cheek with her other one, picking up the dried tears and sighing at her quietly.

"Are you feeling better, baby?" Irie's lips quiver as she tries to form a response, her voice barely a whisper. "A little," she manages to say, her voice filled with exhaustion. Beverly nods understandingly, her usual colder blue eyes softening into a steady lake in the summer, open to Irie's rays of sunshine. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. It's okay." Beverly muttered softly, offering her a warm cup of tea and a soft smile. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what you decide. Take all the time you need."

Irie nodded, feeling her eyes sting again. She wrapped her arms around Beverly, tucking her head under her chin as she used to when she was a child. Beverly was taken by surprise, her eyes widening for a bare moment, followed by a twitch of her lips as her arms slithered around her daughter, cradling her close to her chest.

It's been a long time since Irie cried like this.

But nonetheless, Beverly wasn't there to judge. She smiled to herself as she rocked Irie back and forth, humming a lullaby Max had unintentionally taught her when they were children because she was always humming it to Jacey as she was smaller.

Talking about Jacey, Beverly felt an arm wrap around her from behind and take hold of Irie's hand, interlacing their fingers. She leaned in and whispered softly, "We're here for you, always." Beverly felt the urge to curve into a small smile as Irie visibly inched closer to Jacey.

"I want to go." Irie sobbed, her hand squeezing Jacey's. "I want to go so much." Jacey gazed at Beverly from the side of her eye. They both nodded at the same time, knowing what they were both referring to.

"But what's stopping you, sweetheart?" Jacey tucked a strand of ginger hair behind her ear, cradling her cheek with her fingers. Irie pulled away, sitting with her legs under her, tears streaming down her face. "S-she told me not to cry. How can I go when I'm going against her?" She sobbed softly.

Beverly reached to stroke her arm. "Baby, she wanted you to be happy. That's what she meant when she said, You shouldn't cry; you know how she was." She muttered quietly, offering her daughter a smile.

"She's always preferred your happiness over hers," Jacey added with a soft grin. "God, I wish Jane was like that." Beverly rolled her eyes as she mumbled.

Irie frowned, her eyebrows arching up.

Jacey sneered, her nose scrunching up as she cackled. "Holy shit, I forgot that she beat the crap out of you when you stole her assignment." Irie, shocked by this, began laughing, joining Jacey, who was already red.

Beverly's ears blushed in response as she bit her bottom lip. "Well, excuse me, but I was failing French. And who the hell would do their homework except for Jane?"

"Max would." Jacey retorted with a proud grin.

"Yeah, bullshit." Beverly rolled her eyes, and Jacey widened hers. "Jane always used to let Max copy." Irie's laughter subsided as she exchanged a knowing glance with Beverly. "Wait, seriously? Aunt Max copied from Jane." Beverly nodded, her blush fading. "Me and Max share the same brain cell, okay? Only that she was a bit more present during classes." Jacey pouted, her lips pressing together slightly.