now @ psaionic

    Nana held her arms close to her body, eyes locked on the stone. The best present she could give her mother today would be staying as far as possible from her sight. Granted, Felicie would never find her here. However, standing there only fed the idea she should be thankful her mother was still there, she had no right to be sad today, Lucas did, it was her turn to stay strong and pay back everything he’s done for her.

     His last words hit her quite in a sensitive spot. She and Hinawa have barely even talked, but the times they did she never failed to be sweet, even with Nana’s reputation. Would she still remember that girl after so many people had prayed to her? Nana replied only with a smile.

                ❝ It’s okay, Lucas. My mom is having fun with some friends so I don’t mind staying for a while. I just wanna make sure you’re okay, too. Are you… sure you don’t want some time alone with her, though? ❞

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     ❝ ...I would, sometime

               today, but maybe not right now. I like havin’ you around. ❞

               It’s only appropriate that it be just Lucas and Hinawa at some point today, but Nana is a friend to him. She’s trying to help him — he isn’t about to tell her to leave. Maybe soon he’ll be on his own here, but for now, he’s going to take solace in her company. Bless Fuel’s heart, and Angie’s, and Alle’s, but he just can’t talk to them about this the way he can with her.

                 ❝ Your mom was the kindest person in this village, even to me. There’s nothing wrong about missing someone that special, ya know? She’s lucky to have a child like you… ❞

     Nana placed the sunflower besides the grave, keeping the small grin on her face, although she had many mixed feelings that day.

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     He watches Nana

               set down her flowers and, too, manages to maintain a grin, however weak. Her presence here is comforting. Lucas still would have come even if it had been only him and his mother, but having Nana to talk to keeps his mind off of things like crying. ( And oh, he’d cry. )

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     ❝ ...You know,

                 ❝ That class is one very boring lullaby,! Not even mentioning all the nonsense they’re shoving down our throaths! I don’t know what the second impact was, but there’s something very off about a meteor causing it! Now let’s go in, there’s a lot of stuff i need to update you on. ❞

     She sighed, there was no evidence against the “impact” story, but there was something inside her that was still very skeptical about it. Nana grabbed her bag from the ground and entered the apartment, taking off her shoes once she stepped in.

                ❝ I hope you’re not missing class on purpose, Lucas! The class rep has been super strict on rules lately, she hates that her class is the one with most absences. But honestly… three of our students are pilots, I don’t know what she expected! Ah, and Fuel got in detention again for drawing a caricature of the teacher riding the second impact’s meteor in the inner board, he even signed it! I don’t know why he was so upset? With all the second impact propaganda he makes, he should have loved it. Anyways, what have you been up to that made you miss that masterpiece? ❞

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     Once they were inside,

               Lucas slipped off his shoes and made sure Boney was off the couches. He listened as Nana went on about the lesson and the absences. The story of the Second Impact, the meteor...he had come to have some of the same thoughts recently. He just had no ideas about what it could be, if not that. Not yet. Maybe one day, he’d know — Nana always talked about destiny, and perhaps his wasn’t to know just yet.

               He cringed a little at the thought that he might be upsetting the class rep, but Nana, at least, sympathized with him, so he managed a little grin. And when she branched into the story about Fuel’s drawing, the grin became a chuckle. Such a Fuel thing to do.

               It really was a shame he wasn’t there for it. A small twinge of regret hit him, but he held it down.

               ❝ Oh — just a lotta the normal stuff, ❞ Lucas replied nonchalantly, kneeling at a coffee table and spreading Nana’s notes out over its surface. ❝ Just...just work. Testing ‘n’ things. It’s gotten kinda quiet lately though, so — it’s been mostly just that, ‘n’ not a whole lotta actual emergencies. ❞

               It was mostly true. Just that...yesterday he was in a funk. Yes, that was all.

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     It’s a mess.

               It’s all a complete mess. A mess of color, a mess of sound — a mess of memories. And he’s not sure he can take any more. He doesn’t want to remember the night of the fire, he doesn’t want to remember what happened in that fire — and his father after — he doesn’t want to get hurt. But his mother isn’t his fault, he pleads with himself, but his father would never do that to him! But he doesn’t want to be hurt! He doesn’t want his brother to talk to him like this, no rocks, no spitting, he doesn’t want everyone to hate him. He doesn’t want to be the village crybaby anymore. He doesn’t want to be hurt, he doesn’t want his mother to be his fault, he doesn’t want it!

               The boy named Lucas is crying at a grave. The boy named Lucas is getting into trouble in the mountains. The boy named Lucas learned some bad magic. The boy named Lucas...

               Somewhere, he lost the others, or have they all just been swallowed up by the twisting and turning trees, the shrieking mailboxes? The only one Lucas still sees at his side is Boney, who has never left, Boney, who’s barking at something again — though this time around, is something different in that barking?

               He looks up, and then he sees what’s the matter.

               It’s him, and yet it isn’t all at once, it’s everything he hates and fears about himself and everything around him. It’s him with those bruises that don’t exist, with marks and disheveled hair that don’t exist, with a blue shoe in one hand and a knife in the other, that shouldn’t haunt him anymore — but with a sadness in his eyes that’s very, very real. It’s himself, with every regret and every bad dream visible on his body, in his hands. And himself looks straight on at him.

{{ //slams my hands down

{{ Hey lads