~trigger warning- mentions of suicide~
This chapter is heavy but it reveals a lot about our protagonist. Just wanted to give you a heads up. It's not graphic or anything but read with caution.
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{An out-stretched hand called 'Grief'}
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Word Count ; 5717
Bakugou grunted as he lowered the bar of weights before pumping it above his chest. Kirishima spotted him, legs in a squatting position as he lightly led the bar up and down, counting the reps as Bakugou pushed.
He let out a final huff before placing the bar back in its holding rack, sitting up to wipe the sweat off of his face with the bottom of his workout tanktop. Kirishima patted him on the shoulder, rounding the bench til he was facing his friend, "Good job, man."
"Thanks," Bakugou grumbled, his eyes distant and distracted as he stared at the ground. Kirishima pursed his lips, taking a swig from his water bottle before offering it to his friend. Bakugou nodded, swiping the water bottle from his extended hand.
"What's up with you, man?" Kirishima asked, concern etched across his face as he took a seat on the opposite bench. Bakugou knocked back his big gulp of water, tossing the bottle back to Kirishima, who caught it swiftly.
"Nothing," he said gruffly, nodding his head back as he laid down. Kirishima quickly scrambled back to his spotting position, placing his hands under the bar as Bakugou grabbed either side of it. He helped him lift it off the rack before he began his reps again.
"You just seem really unsettled," Kirishima pointed out as his friend grunted with each push of the bar, "I'm just wondering if it has anything to do with..."
"With what?" Bakugou huffed out in between pushes and Kirishima pursed his lips, contemplating his next words wisely. He shrugged as Bakugou pulled the bar down to his chest, bicep muscles bulging at the strain. He inhaled sharply, "I don't know.. Miriara.. possibly.."
Bakugou's grip faltered and Kirishima quickly grabbed onto the bar, pulling it up with him. The blonde grit his teeth, the sound of her name causing distracting thoughts to swarm in his mind like a raging flood of water. "Damn it," he cursed, pushing back the bar onto its rack and glaring up at Kirishima. The red-haired boy smiled down sheepishly, "Heh, sorry."
"Why do you always bring her up??" he growled at his friend, sitting back up on the bench. Kirishima shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, "I don't know man, I've just noticed that you guys spend a lot more time together nowadays."
"Well, that's gonna change soon," he scowled to himself, pushing himself off of the bench and walking over to the hand-held weights in front of the gym's large, floor-length mirror walls. He grabbed a pair, testing them out, before putting them back. He sized up to higher weights before beginning his routine.
Kirishima followed him, grabbing his own pair of weights and following Bakugou's movements, pumping the weights up and down, the blood in his veins pulsating, "How come?"
Bakugou grit his teeth, pulling his weights up and down, alternating each arm in doing so, "Because I need to."
"Need to what?"
"Stop."
"Stop what?" Kirishima asked, his eyes laced with confusion. Bakugou stared into the mirror, catching his vermillion gaze as he continued working out his arms, "I don't know."
"Okay..." Kirishima muttered, utterly confused by his friend's strange words and behavior, "Well why don't we start with expressing how you feel towards her?"
Bakugou's head snapped in his friend's direction, eyes wide and full of surprise, halting his arm workout. His expression morphed from shock into annoyance as he put his weights away with a 'tch' noise escaping his lips, "I'm not fucking doing that."
"Why not?" Kirishima asked, letting out a sigh as Bakugou left him, crossing to the other side of the room. Kirishima thanked whatever higher power there was for the patience he'd been granted with, for if he didn't have it, being Bakugou's only close friend would be impossible. He set his weights down, trailing after his friend as he sprawled out on the workout mats.
He hovered his legs over the ground, crossing his ankles as he began to do speed-crunches. Kirishima plopped down beside him, following his movements, hovering his own crossed ankles over the mat, "Look, it's just me. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."
"I just don't want to talk about her," he grit his teeth, breathing heavily. Kirishima struggled to keep up with his aggressive pace, the steam rippling off of him proving his growing rage. Kirishima ignored that, too focused on getting him to admit what he'd been suspecting for a while now.
"Why not? Cause you're into her and don't want to admit it?" Kirishima plainly asked, side-glancing at his friend. Bakugou's gaze remained hard and unflinching as he continued his crunches.
He kept his mouth closed. No remark, no denial, just silence. Kirishima kept himself from grinning, knowing he couldn't convincingly deny it.
"It's okay, you know, to like her," Kirishima panted, "I mean, I only saw Mina as a friend- until I didn't." He chuckled to himself on that last part, causing Bakugou to halt his movements, pausing midair. He blinked once. Twice.
"Don't you think having a girlfriend is distracting you from becoming a hero?" Bakugou finally looked into his friend's eyes as he too halted his crunches. Kirishima took in his fiery gaze with comfortable ease, shrugging his shoulders casually, "Not really."
He scoffed in response, going back to his set of speed crunches, faster than before. Kirishima sighed through his nose, turning his body fully toward his friend, "Look-"
Bakugou ignored him, his gaze steely as he leaned forward and backward, keeping his legs in the air steadily. He learned the workout from Costa. It was a part of her '12 step ab shredder' workout that she convinced him to take part in with her. She wasn't joking, it shredded his abs, leaving his abdominal muscle aching for days. But it worked, most of her workouts were hardcore and effective.
That's what he liked about her, she was always so focused on bettering herself, she even helped him better himself too. Whenever she came up with a new move in hand-to-hand combat, she'd share it with him. Whenever she came up with a new study method or trick to solving a problem they were both stuped on, she'd share it with him. Whenever they worked out together, she'd drag him into her hardcore workouts that ended up making him stronger.
"You 'dating' Miriara wouldn't change anything," Kirishima tried to explain, earning an irritated side-glance from Bakugou, "You guys would still train together, study together, work out together, and then be independent as heroes like you are right now. And you even admitted that you've been getting stronger these past few weeks! Don't you think spending more time with Miriara would lead you down the path you've been wanting to go down? She's not distracting you man, she's motivating you."
Bakugou clenched his jaw. No, cause he was completely right. He did feel like he'd been on the right track these past few weeks, especially after their successful studies program.
"If it was any other girl, sure, you'd be right," Kirishima explained, his hand flying up in the air with his enthusiastic gestures, "But it's Miriara, she's the most independent and driven girl you're ever going to meet. Plus, she's got that attitude that your mom does, she's totally your type."
"Ugh, don't compare her to that hag!"
"Not the point," Kirishima shook his head at his friend, "The point is that she's the exception, dude. She's the dime a dozen, you're not gonna find anyone else like her! Anyone else that'll argue with you and challenge you like she does!"
He clenched his jaw even harder, his muscles starting to hurt from it.
But he didn't need her. She didn't need him either. He just- he didn't even know what he wanted from her. But what from what Kirishima was suggesting, he assumed it was more than what they currently were. But could he really be into Costa.. romantically?
Sure, she was beyond pretty. Plus, she was strong. Really strong. She put all the guys in their class to shame and then some. She'd immediately proved to him that she was a valid rival from the beginning so... shouldn't he hate her? He had negative feelings toward all of his other rivals, why was this any different? Why was he suddenly feeling the opposite with this one?
"I don't know.." Bakugou sighed, covering his face with his hands. Kirishima punched him in the shoulder and he flinched, snapping his head over to glare at his friend. But Kirishima was smiling at him, that welcoming gleam in his eyes the reason he felt so comfortable around him in the first place, "Dude, come on. You're seventeen and have never even had a crush on a girl, much less kissed one before..."
"Hey!" his eyes widened in anger.
"So it's okay, you're allowed to be a normal teenage boy for once, you get a pass for this one," Kirishima slung an arm around his shoulders, a goofy grin spreading across his face, "How does it feel to finally have feelings like the rest of us?"
"I do not! Shut the hell up, you don't know what you're talking about," Bakugou shoved his friend off of him, Kirishima barking in laughter. Bakugou looked away quickly, hiding the blush that coated his cheeks. Kirishima obviously hadn't figured out about the kiss between him and Costa.
Yes, it was his first kiss. So what? He'd never found kissing anyone else appealing before now. It seemed pointless since his attention was completely focused on becoming the number one hero. But now that he had had his first kiss, everything had shifted. Suddenly he found himself paying more attention to such things that seemed unimportant before. It wasn't even girls in general that caught his attention, it was Costa and Costa only.
His type. What did that even mean? He didn't have a type. Well, he didn't think he did anyway. Costa was a total idiot sometimes. She could be rude and harsh and demanding. But she was also a social butterfly that got along with others easily while also knowing when to put people in their place. She loved to push his buttons, right from the start she made it her goal to. Come to think of it, she'd been paying attention to him from the very beginning, whether it was through annoying him or trying to get him to fight with her. Did that mean.. that she was thinking about him like this too?
He shook his head, his thoughts giving him a headache, "I don't like this."
"I know you don't," Kirishima tilted his head to the side, giving his friend a sympathetic smile, "Sometimes liking someone can hurt too, especially when you don't know if they like you back or not."
"How do-" Bakugou flicked his gaze up at his friend, his tone wavering and hesitant, "How do you know if they..."
He trailed off and looked away, too embarrassed to finish that question. Kirishima chuckled, patting his friend on the back with that same goofy grin, "If they like you back? Well, that's why you have to start paying attention."
"To what?"
"To how they interact with you," Kirishima shrugged, "If they flirt with you, or are overly-touchy, or steal glances at you when they think you're not looking. Stuff like that."
"But-" Bakugou let out a 'tch', "Every... Everyone looks at her like that."
"Oh yeah, Mirirara's definitely a hot commodity and you'll have yourself some heavy competition. Especially Todoroki, he's totally into in her," Bakugou growled at that, "BUT, don't you like competition? That's your thing right?"
He went quiet at that, Kirishima sending him a knowing look that said 'you totally gotta win this one, dude'.
"Think of this as a competition," Kirishima said and then paused, correcting himself, "Although... don't like.. objectify her as a prize, that's not manly and that's not what I meant- anyway... What I mean is, don't be nervous, think of it as... winning her affections in one way or another."
"Winning her affections...?"
"Yeah, like if you spend more time with her and do little things to make her notice you," Kirishima explained, leaning his arm on his propped up knee, "Then you'll win her affections, aka, she'll eventually like you too."
Bakugou narrowed his eyes at his friend, "You want me to fight... for a girl?"
"Not any girl," Kirishima gave him a 'duh' expression, "But the only girl you've ever felt like this about. That's a big deal."
It was a big deal. Something he had to win. He liked winning, he liked Costa. But it still made his chest feel tight with nerves. He swallowed down that feeling.
'Bakugou could never get a girlfriend.'
The words replayed in his head on repeat and he cringed at it. Kaminari had been joking, he knew that but.. he also knew that he was completely serious about that statement. He didn't blame him for saying it, most girls stayed clear of him. They wanted someone that was gentle, caring, and nice. All that girls wanted were nice boys and he was not one, not at all.
"Hey, hey, hey," Kirishima grabbed each of his shoulders, forcing him to turn to face him. Bakugou brought his eyes up to his friends, not realizing he was displaying his doubt on his face so transparently, "Do not get in your head about this. You're Katsuki Bakugou! You totally got this in the bag!"
His mouth twitched until an evil smirk formed on his lips, "Fuck yeah, I am."
"Right!" Kirishima grinned at his friend's sudden burst of confidence, "She's lucky to have you! Now win your freaking girl!"
"I'm gonna win the girl," he genuinely smiled, causing Kirishima's chest to swell with pride as he patted him on the shoulder, "That's my guy!"
They continued the rest of their workout, Bakugou pumped with motivation and an unerasable smirk on his face after his friend's pep talk. His head felt much clearer now. He only needed to sort out his feelings by talking to Kirishima about the dilemma. It felt... freeing, to let it out, to admit it.
Before, he was conflicted. He didn't want to admit it. But Kirishima made it feel... normal, okay, allowed. For he was seventeen, he was a boy, and she was his type. He grinned as he worked on the leg machine, his chest fluttering at the idea of seeing her again, at starting this challenge at... winning her affections, or whatever bullshit Kirishima had spouted.
And no one would beat him at this, he wouldn't let him. Not icy-hot or anyone else would get in his way. For the idea of actually getting Costa to like him in that way...
It was the most motivating thing he'd thought about in a long time.
+
Costa stepped off the train, stationed in Shi City alongside her aunt. She swallowed, her throat feeling tight as she took in the view of the city from the steps of the station.
It was just how she remembered it, from taking the train home from school or hanging out with her old friends in the city. A different world, a different life. Now it felt like she was a stranger to it, leaving a sinking feeling in the pit of her gut.
"You good?" Hana asked from beside her, looking sideways at her with concern etched across her face. Costa didn't meet her stare, slowly nodding her head, "Yeah."
"I don't believe you," Hana snorted, interlacing her fingers with Costa's, "We don't have to do this if you don't wa-"
"I do," Costa interrupted her, squeezing her hand with a sigh, "I have to."
Hana's expression softened, noting the painful, determined look on her niece's face. She nodded once, accepting that as her answer as they made their way up the concrete steps and into the city.
Hana didn't have a past with this city, not like Costa did. So the town square filled with people, the shops of fruits and beaded jewelry lining the streets, it did nothing to her. But with Costa, it was like putting salt on a wound that was never fully healed.
She grit her teeth as she walked down the sidewalk, recognizing the places her mother used to take her to. The little jewelry store she'd bought a necklace from for her mother's birthday. The food-mart on the corner where she'd run errands after school because her dad was bedridden and unable to do so. The cafe down the block that she and her friends would do their homework at.
It was painful, more painful than she thought it would be. She hadn't been in this city for months, almost a year, had let herself bury the memories of it into the back of her mind where she kept the darkest of secrets, some even Hana didn't know of.
"C'mon," Hana wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her into a flower shop. Costa blinked.
Right, they were going to get flowers to put on her mother's grave.
She swallowed down her pain, trying to give herself a moment to simply pick out flowers and leave for the gravesite before any of those heavy emotions slipped out.
Hana smiled and greeted the shop owner, an older, Japanese man with a wrinkly face and the sweetest of smiles. He wore a green, fishing hat and an apron with printed daisies on it. He was adorable. Costa made to smile at him, trying her best to make it reach her eyes. He smiled back at her as she passed into the shop.
Hana rounded a display of all different kinds of lilies, briefly sniffing a bouquet of bluebells. Costa shoved her hands in her pockets, eyes scanning the wide selection. They had beautiful flowers, ranging from all different shapes, sizes, and colors.
Then Costa's eyes narrowed onto a bouquet of yellow orchids. She sighed through her nose when she saw them, her lip trembling slightly as she approached them. She plucked a handful from their stand, leaning in as she closed her eyes and breathed in. They smelt lovely.
"Costa! Come here!"
Costa let out a groan of frustration, looking up from her homework as she sat at the kitchen table. Her mother was hunched over in the garden in their backyard, the back door wide open, letting the spring breeze drift in.
"What now," Costa huffed in annoyance, dropping her pen and pushing herself up from the chair she was stationed at. Her mother didn't reply and she rolled her eyes as she trudged out the back door and onto their deck, "What?"
Her mother grinned up at her from her position in their small, flower garden. She wore her high-waisted, dark-washed mom jeans with a loose, yellow, long-sleeved button-up. Her white bucket hat, patterned with yellow flowers covered the top of her head, a long white braid falling out the back. Costa crossed her arms over her chest, quirking an eyebrow at her mother.
"Come, come," her mother beckoned her, gesturing for her to come closer, her hands covered by brown gardening gloves. Costa shook her head with a smile as she stepped into the garden, her bare feet digging into the warm soil.
"Look," her mother pointed at a cluster of flowers, "The orchids we planted bloomed beautifully."
"Oh my god," Costa gasped, squatting in the soil with her mother as she beamed, "I thought you said they weren't gonna make it."
"Oops, did I say that?" her mother avoided her gaze with a goofy smile growing on her face. Costa scowled, playfully shoving her mom in the shoulder. She gasped as she fell, her butt plopping into the dirt, getting her jeans dirty. Costa clasped a hand over her mouth as a laugh escaped.
Her mother glared at her mischievously with those fierce, golden eyes that mirrored her own. Everything about her mother mirrored her. From the long, platinum curls, to the tanned Spanish skin, to the bright, viscious golden-colored eyes.
"You little-" her mother shook her head, her lips curving into an evil smile. Costa's eyes widened, preparing to make a run for it when her mother grabbed a fistful of soil and chucked it at her. She gasped, looking down at her white cardigan now stained with dirt, "MOM!"
"You started it, honey," her mother put her hands up in defense as if she was innocent. Costa let out a loud laugh before grabbing a fistful of dirt and throwing it at her. She let out a loud gasp, shocked by the retaliation, "Oh you're so dead!"
"Wait- wait! Watch the orchids!"
Costa shuttered a breath at the memory, her fingers curling around the stems of the flowers. Hana noticed her standing in front of the display, sidling up to her and glancing at the flowers in her hands, "Yellow orchids?"
"Yeah," Costa swallowed the lump in her throat, "These ones."
Hana inhaled sharply, knowing whatever was going through her niece's mind, it was a memory that meant something, that connected those yellow orchids to her mother, "Alright, yellow orchids it is."
Hana slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side embrace. Costa let her, her eyes locked onto the flowers in her hands. Hana sighed into her hair before pulling back and looking down at her, "Alright, let's head out."
Costa nodded slowly, her face in a blank expression, letting Hana lead her in the direction of the cashier. Hana quickly bought the flowers before they both stepped back out onto the streets of Shi. Costa didn't remember the walk to the cemetery, too in her head to observe the city. She didn't want to observe the city, for the fear of any other memories resurfacing and leaving her more empty than before.
She and Hana hiked up a tall hill after passing the gate entrance that signaled they'd arrived at the gravesite. Hana had been coming to visit the site every now and then, whenever she could, so she was familiar with Sofia's burial location. But Costa, the site of all those grave-stones, with buried bodies hidden beneath...
Her stomach churned the longer she walked, fingers tightly clasped around the bouquet of orchids.
Hana led her along a row of stones before stopping. Costa squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look down at it, to read the name that she knew was etched across that stone. Hana let out a long sigh, crouching down before it, muttering softly "Hey Sof. Long time, no see."
Costa's eyes burned, inhaling sharply as she stood there, eyes glued to the skies above. It was sunset now. The world was cast in a haze of oranges, blues, and pinks. Pink sketched in clouds with rounded edges, consumed by the vivid light blue hues that flowed through them. The sun set over the horizon, reflecting orange into that mix of colors.
Costa let out a shuddering breath as the wind pulled her hair back from her clear face, "Wow."
She'd whispered it, not loud enough for Hana to hear. Hana, who'd now peered up at her niece, smiled softly, "Costa."
She mentally prepared herself for it. Her golden eyes, cast in the light of the sunset finally flickered down to where Hana sat. To the gravestone that sat between many, slightly worn by rain but still appearing freshly sculpted.
Costa could feel her chest cave in when she finally looked at it, the pain too unbearable with nothing to hold back the tsunami of emotion that broke through her, that shattered her walls.
Here lies, Sofia Garcia Miriara. Friend, sister, and mother. XXXX-XXXX. Will forever live on in the hearts of those who loved her.
A sob escaped her mouth as she sank to her knees. Every single time she'd held back, kept herself from crying or talking about it or even remembering who her mother was... it all came back to her in that moment, tenfold.
She dropped the flowers, letting them tumble to the grass before her mother's gravestone as she began to cry hysterically. It hit her, unlike anything she'd ever felt before, the full weight of that grief. That grief that she'd refused to accept, refused to acknowledge for an entire year.
It was a friend that held out its hand, wicked and cruel and crying out in pain. She hadn't taken its hand, the hand that would guide her onto a new path. A path of healing, a path of hope, of moving forward. She looked at that grief dead in the eyes and felt every tinge of its misery.
She didn't even feel the arms that enveloped her, the arms that belonged to her aunt. All she could feel was the power and weight of that grief. It flooded her senses. She felt like she could die, that she would die as she grasped onto that extended hand. As she finally accepted the pain, felt it in the depths of her bones. It screamed in agony, dug its nails into her skin.
She wailed, doubled over into her own lap, her aunt rubbing circles onto her back, her own eyes leaking with uncontrollable tears.
They sat there for what felt like forever, both of them crying, grieving, accepting. Her mother watched them as they did so, death's kiss leaving a hole in the hearts of her loved ones as they cried for her. Their tears seeped into the ground, mixing with the soil that would eventually sprout new blades of green grass.
For after the tears and sadness, would come growth, love, a new day. Sofia, who'd been so wise and knowing, knew that. And she watched them from wind, the sun, the leaves in the trees, the roots in the ground. Her soul caught onto the breeze and flowed past them, letting them grieve before her burial. She smiled at them, kissed them lovingly, whispered sweet nothings into their ears through the ringing of the wind.
Costa felt it. She felt her mother as she cried and cried and cried. But for once, in a very long time, she felt... free. As if a large weight was slowly peeling itself off of her low shoulders. What came out of pain, out of grief, was life. Life flowed around her, living and breathing, a wild force that sunk into her heart and laid something. Something new, something fragile and ready for growth, for healing.
When the sun had set over the horizon and she ran out of tears, leaving her face red and swollen, they simply sat there together, in silence. Costa's head leaned against Hana's shoulder, her aunt's fell against her own, their fingers intertwined loosely.
The yellow orchids laid atop the stone, Costa staring at the yellow petals. They reminded her of her mother, that yellow. She was so... bright. Not necessarily cheerful, for she was a force to be reckoned with, like Costa. But so... good. So full of that wild, flowing, endless life and love, laced with a fierce bravery that Costa had admired her entire life.
"You know..." Costa finally spoke, her voice coming out as a rasp after what felt like hours of sobbing, "I never gave you my side of the story, of that night."
Hana stayed silent, waiting for her niece to continue. Costa swallowed, sliding her eyes shut as exhaustion began to take its toll on her, "I told the police when I was in shock, and I know they told you the basis. But I couldn't tell it again, not when the shock wore off. So I never told you..."
Hana peeled her head off of Costa's, sitting up and alert as a seriousness took over her face, triggered by Costa's tone. Her eyes pierced into Costa's golden ones, both filled with pain and regret. Costa's lips quivered as tears threatened to spill once more, knowing that what she was about to tell Hana...
It would be one of the hardest things she'd ever have to do.
"I um- I had hero training late that night," Costa sniffled, pulling her knees into her chest, "And mom, she hadn't texted me back for a few hours. I assumed it was because she was upset with me after the argument we had earlier that day. It was stupid, I wanted to sleepover at a friend's house and she said no and-"
Costa's voice broke, her eyes brimming with tears. Hana stared at her, listening intently as her niece finally, finally talked about what happened. She knew what had happened, the trauma that must have inflicted upon her niece because of it. So she never pushed, knew there would come a day that she'd be ready to talk about it. She didn't expect today to be that day, but she was more than willing to listen.
"I took my time coming home because I was avoiding her lecture," Costa wiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist, voice shaky and wavering, "But when I got back, all the lights were out."
Hana closed her eyes, knowing what was to come next in her story. Costa paused too, preparing herself to say the words, to speak them into existence instead of pretending they didn't exist, "I called out for her, and... and dad too, but when I came in and..."
"She didn't answer," Costa covered her eyes with the heels of her palms, "So I-I went upstairs and th-then I went into their room."
A sob escaped her lips and Hana grabbed her shoulder, her thumb circling over the fabric of her shirt. Costa let out a frustrated noise as if she was in physical pain the more she spoke. Hana didn't stop her, knowing that Costa wanted to tell it, to fight through that pain. She could tell it was hard for her, to get through it.
"The bathroom light was on," Costa pushed out the words quickly, her heart hammering in her chest at a rapid pace. Hana rubbed her back soothingly, trying to get her body to calm down so that she wouldn't go into a panic attack. Costa removed her hands from her face, forcing herself to look Hana in the eyes as she said the next words. Hana's heart broke when she said them.
"There was blood... everywhere," it came out as a pained whisper, "She'd been- God..."
"It's okay, I know what happened- you don't have to repeat it," Hana inhaled sharply, pressing her forehead against her nieces as she began to sob again. Costa shook her head, croaking out, "No, you don't know... she- she was murdered."
Hana's brows furrowed as she looked at her niece, whose eyes were sewn shut. Murdered? That's what Costa had convinced herself happened? All this time, she thought Sofia was.. killed.
"Costa, she left a letter..." Hana breathed out, her voice breaking a bit. Costa ripped herself out of her hold, eyes flashing in anger, "She didn't kill herself!"
Hana's lip trembled, her niece's denial sending spirals of pain into her body. She shook her head, not wanting to argue with her about it, not after she read the note herself. The police let her see it, she read the entire thing over and over again. She never let Costa read it though, she'd been through enough and didn't need to see it too.
Apparently, Gael had left her. That's what the police had suspected, anyway. That's what was suggested in her letter. He'd packed up all of his stuff and left her, leaving her a hysterical mess. Then she wrote that note that she left in the bathroom and... slit her wrists and throat in the bathtub.
Leaving their 16-year-old daughter to find her mother's dead body in the bathtub, finding out it was because her father had left them both...
She went to school that morning with two parents and went to bed with none.
She had nobody. Nobody except Hana.
"N-no, she would never d-do that, she would never w-willingly leave me," Costa shook her head, her voice panicky and breathless. Hana clasped her niece's hands between her own, eyes peering deep into hers, "Hey, hey, take a deep breath, you're getting worked up."
Costa listened to her, eyes shutting as she inhaled deeply. Her breathing was shaky and ragged but Hana breathed with her, taking strong inhales before letting out long exhales. Within a couple of minutes, she'd calmed back down, her breathing back to a normal pace.
"There we go," Hana whispered, pulling Costa into a side-hug, stroking her fingers through her hair, "You're okay, you're okay."
Costa buried her face into her aunt, accepting every ounce of comfort and affection from the only family member she had left. Hana had been... the most amazing comfort. She'd been selfless to let her in with open arms and comforting smiles while still in her twenties, still figuring out her own life. She'd been so incredibly patient too, dealing with her emotional outbursts gracefully while supporting her wholeheartedly. She'd been encouraging, enthusiastic about Costa moving to a new school and starting over, continuing her journey to become a hero. She'd even told her time and time again how proud of her she was, how strong she was for moving forward.
Costa felt so lucky. Not for what happened to her, but for having someone left to console her. She wasn't alone, no matter how alone she felt at times. But her aunt, despite the late nights she worked and the early mornings she'd have to leave for, had been there for her every step of the way.
"I'm here for you, Cos," Hana said into her hair as she held her niece tightly, "I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?" Costa sniffled, squeezing her so tightly as if she was terrified she'd leave her too.
"I promise, I promise with my whole life," Hana said, eyes brimming with tears, "You're never getting rid of me. You'll even get sick of me."
Costa let out a laugh through her tears, Hana joining in. Then she sighed, feeling completely emotionally drained as she whispered softly. The words carried off onto the cool wind that swept over the graveyard.
"Thank you, for everything."