Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mari was glad. 

The fireworks left a residue of soot on her bare feet and thick black smoke hanging in the air, but Mari hardly cared. She laughed with Aubrey, stole glances at Hero’s delighted face, and squeezed Sunny’s palm comfortingly. 

Basil was the one that suggested a trip to the beach; Summer was near its end, Hero and Mari would be preoccupied with their studies, and the younger four would soon be in highschool. The recital captivated her attention more than books did. Mari would have spent the twilight hours dutifully preparing for the advent of the future, but… 

… The sparkler crackled in her free hand as she waved it. Her little brother looked so mesmerized. Mari loved seeing his quiet expression be taken by emotion-- like the awe he had written over his face now. 

She loved that. She loved him. She didn’t have any idea why she was so apprehensive about this. Though the night had grown long, Mari felt as if things couldn’t be even more incandescent.

“Kel!” She suddenly exclaimed. Surprise soared in her throat as he approached with a thick clump of firecrackers. He beamed a large and toothy smile towards her. They were like colorful reeds tucked underneath his arm, turgidly shifting as he made his way to the circle. “You should put that down, Kel,” She cautioned. “What if you accidentally light all of them at once? We shouldn’t--”

… But he had already lit them by their bundled wickers. Mari and Hero yelped as the younger children squealed in both fear and anticipation. “Waaaaatch out!” Kel cried.

The thin tubes clattered against the ground before their ends let loose a high, shrill scream, an explosion of lights and fire erupting from amidst their rapidly capitulating circle. The last thing she saw was Basil panickedly leaping away. Mari’s shocked eyes flashed colors; it was like a lurid bonfire, motes of warm and cool colors swarming everywhere. A whoooosh! reverberated across the beach, rattling her skull as the fireworks thundered.

Mari stumbled back and coughed, her ears ringing from the cacophony of noises, and blearily rubbed her eyes as a smog of gunpowder blew into her. Is everyone alright? Is everything fine? The panicked thoughts ran through her mind first. Is Sunny fine? He hates things like that. Mari let herself notice the dull ache throbbing in her head, only after thinking of her brother. She hastily shook her head to dispel the feeling.

Regaining her bearings and as the black fog settled, relief washed over Mari. Everyone was fine-- mostly. Kel had fallen on his rear, dazed with his face and shirt blanketed in soot. Aubrey had thrown herself in front of a stunned Sunny, the both thankfully unharmed. She turned and looked at him with a relieved expression.

“We’re alright! We’re alright.” Mari’s eyes hastily looked towards the small slope on the beachside. Basil had fallen, his knees dusted in sand looking frazzled in Hero’s arms. The poor boy had been crying, but Hero smiled warmly and was saying words of consolation to him. 

That was her hero. Mari felt herself stare as he made his way up the uneven ground, before immeasurable gratitude swelled inside her. “Basil-- are you two okay?” She was stumbling forward, kicking the dunes up clumsily. It was a far cry from the deft way Hero navigated the terrain. She almost tumbled off the decline herself if Hero hadn’t handily caught her by the shoulder; Mari always forgot her bad knee. “That was dangerous!” She gasped. 

The sand was cold to the touch, any warmth it once had gone while the moon dwelled above in the night, but Mari’s face couldn’t have been anymore heated with emotion. Hero was never the one to not notice things, though, even in the dim lighting. “We’re alright. Right, Basil?”

“I’m fine,” Basil sniffed with barely repressed emotion. “Falling was just scary, that’s all.”

Mari wanted to scold Kel-- she had an instinct to show her umbrage. Mari began to twist her head towards the culprit, but gave a fleeting glance back to Basil. Distress was written everywhere across his face. Mari’s frustration gave away to worry and sympathy, turning back to gently take the boy by his trembling shoulders. “It’s alright, it’s alright…-” Mari gently said. She stroked his hair like a mother would, brushing away askew strands.

Helping the boy stand and holding him comfortably by her side, Mari’s gaze met the approaching trio. Kel looked contrite. Though his face was lathered in powder, any joy he derived was effaced upon seeing Basil’s miserable state. He chewed his bottom lip, wringing his hands together. 

Sunny still seemed astonished. His dark eyes were wide, as if he was still registering what had occurred. Aubrey had to nearly drag him forward - looking exasperated more than anything else - before shaking him insistently by the shoulder. Sunny broke from his reverie, gave a bewildered look to her, and started murmuring excitedly to her. She giggled and began to whisper back.

“That was very dangerous, Kel!” Mari chided. She reassuringly pressed Basil’s head deeper against her shoulder while he hiccuped, as if to give him some privacy. 

Hero had crossed his arms, looking somewhere inbetween nuisanced and outright displeased. “Mari’s right. It’s on us for not telling you to do that, but you should’ve known better.”

“I’m…- I’m--” Kel haltingly began, the words breaking in his throat. The boy’s usually heady look was smitten by a look of shame. He wrung his hands, as if to help shake the words out of the knot that his tongue became. I’m sorry was something he could only convey, not say. 

When it seemed he was about to cry, Mari’s annoyance faltered. What’s the point in being mad? Mari silently scolded herself. She gently took Kel by the shoulder and brought him into the embrace. The younger brother meeped, and though he embarrassedly tried to withdraw, returned the hug tightly. She could feel his face burning from guilt and relief. 

“It’s alright, s’alright,” She murmured, a gentle smile playing on her face.

“Who said you’re the one that’s supposed to accept the apology?” Hero dryly interjected. He laughed, before hugging the circle in his warm arms. Mari could feel his bare skin flecked in sand brush against her own, stifling a blush. Before she could realize, Sunny and Aubrey had wriggled themselves into the group, before laughing and squealing and rocking them all in a slow ring.

 “H-Hey!” Mari stammered. She felt congested in the center. Uneasily stumbling against the ground and kept aloft by the bodies pinned around her, Mari started to reproach them. Aren’t we too old for this? We can fall, everyone! The words rose on her tongue like the tide at night. The sun was rising, though, wrestling the intention back; there were smiles and giggles and a warmth beating in tandem with her heart, and Mari caught herself grinning too, words bubbling into breathless laughter.  

She smiled until her face ached and laughed until her lungs burned. Even Kel lost his vigor, though, before Mari peeled herself away from the embrace as they began to relax. She wiped a happy tear from her eye, and with a tired heave, planted her hands atop her hips. “I told mom and dad we’d be home an hour ago! Come on, everyone. Let’s get going before it’s any later.” 

There were groans of protest and some pleading cries, but with an emphatic look from Mari and somber nod from Hero, the four gave resigned nods. “Help me bring these coolers back to the car,” Mari asked Sunny.

He nodded and lifted a box with his thin arms. While Sunny’s reserved look had returned, Mari could tell he was still aglow from a rush of excitement. She smiled slyly as he looked away,. 

Mari lowered her head conspiratorially. “Let’s get to the car first,” She hushed, “You can get to sit in the front with me before anyone else.”

That made his face light up. While Hero was instructing them to clean up and carry whatever they had brought, she lifted two  coolers apiece, before inconspicuously making her way down the path. Mari entered a light jog before their voices diminished into distant echoes. She suppressed a smile as she heard Sunny huff and puff behind her, slowing her pace to an idle walk for him to match. 

The parking-lot was a broad spread of gravel wedged into the side of a dusty and derelict road. Leading towards the freeway, you’d hardly see it in the night. Lonely lamps were scattered across the space, some attracting buzzing cicadas underneath their orange lights, others flickering intermittently, and a few lone ones misshapen and crooked where they stood. Few cars remained and fewer people quietly making their way back to their vehicles reflected their numbers. Mari thought it was attractive in a homey sort of way, like a scene from a novel. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” She began as they walked, “After tutoring Kim and Aubrey, the two were arguing whether or not Captain Spaceboy needed a girlfriend.”

Sunny looked quizzical. After a moment's notice, though, his cheeks flushed a red color.

The grin that followed deepened his red face. Mari continued in a mild voice. “Kim thought it didn’t make sense for him to have one.” Sunny’s cheeks puffed out, like trying to manifest the will to ask something, but she continued briskly. “Aubrey thought differently.”

“She thinks someone cool needs a girlfriend.” Mari told him, giving Sunny an enigmatic smirk.

A rueful look crept on Sunny’s face, before clearing his throat and peering down the road. It brimmed with anxiety and uncertainty, but-- she could see his guilty grin in the dark. Mari couldn’t help but smile back. There was a time Mari felt adverse to talking with her brother with no verbal replies, talking as if he was deprived of speech,  but Sunny was a listener; though he was quiet, Mari would always hear what his soul needed to say. That was what a sister was supposed to do.

Mari took a deep and sharp breath of the brackish and salty scent of the ocean; she wanted to remember it. Who knew when she’d be here again? She hummed, closing her eyes. Remembering the sights she loved the most.

Sky like a bruise, in contrast to the ocean blue. One iridescent and the other a bright hue. Both which pay homage to mother nature’s dues…

A wave of quiet embarrassment suddenly ran through Mari. There she’d gone again. Hero had teased her about it before. Do you really have to perfect every feeling?

Perfecting everything. The word crashed through her mind like thunder. Right. The recital. How could she forget? There wasn’t a point in introspection right now. Mari’s head craned to the side, towards Sunny.

 A muted smile played on his face, but she’d ask about what was making him happy after. “Are you alright if we practice early in the morning, Sunny? We missed rehearsing this afternoon to go on this trip. We’ll have to work extra hard to make up for the lost time.”

The smile was instantly dashed from his face. It was immediate, like she’d just told him they were giving away Mewo. Sunny brought his head up, giving a tentative look towards his sister. Their feet crunched against the pebbles as they made their way to the car before he mumbled. 

Mari had to strain her ears more than normal to hear his voice. Still, she couldn’t make any semblance of the words. “-- What’d you say, Sunny?”

“Something’s wrong with my violin,” He timidly said, voice soft.

Something’s wrong? Mari frowned. “What do you mean? You got it last Christmas. Something shouldn’t be wrong with it. When did you notice?”

“I don’t know,” Sunny quietly replied. His shoulders were tensed, accentuated by the effort to keep the heavy cooler aloft. “Maybe we can take tomorrow off? We’ve practiced almost everyday so far. I was-- I was thinking we can go to the movies, Mari.”

“We can’t just do that.” Displeasure was written across Mari’s face. “It’s this week, Sunny. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“We were going to the beach,” He uncertainly said.

She felt exasperated.  “I shouldn’t be here if your violin was broken,” Mari rebutted. “We’ll probably have to spend all day tomorrow fixing it. I could’ve done that today if you-”

Sunny, alarmed, was beginning to stutter out some words, but she overspoke him. “- Didn’t decide to be so irresponsible. You’re almost a highschooler, Sunny. You have to better your priorities and responsibilities.” 

That should be that, Mari reasoned. Though she felt disappointed, Sunny was a docile kid, and listened better than he did argue or go deaf whenever she did have to lecture him. 

“ No! ” Sunny abruptly yelled. He had stopped walking. Her brother looked up at her, upset, shoulders rising and falling. The look was slowly supplanted with an angry one. “Why does this matter to you so much? You’re so stupid! ”

“Sunny,” Mari began, shocked.

“You always do this! You don’t-- when’s the last time we’ve spent time together? Really? You don’t care about me , you just want your brother for the perfect picture! For yourself and for everyone else to admire. You’re so--!”

Someone poured cold water over her head. Ice was in Mari’s veins.“ Sunny! ” 

“-- You don’t get any of this! When did I become just a tool for you?”

The cooler fell to the ground with a clatter. Sunny’s eyes were bright with furious tears as he moved to march past her. It felt like someone was pointing the barrel of a gun at her. Mari, petrified and entombed in stone, hadn’t registered that Sunny was almost past her shoulder. She managed to break free; whipping around to grab him by the shoulder. “You can’t just walk away from me, Sunny!”

He gave a hard and desperate shove. Mari stumbled back before she felt her knee buckle underneath her; a sudden gasp escaped her lips before the world spun. The lamp posts and stars were suddenly in her peripherals above, her hands felt scraped, and Mari’s behind felt sore. She had fallen to the ground with a small thud. 

For a beat of a second, Mari stayed there-- her mind benumbed of thought or logic or even acknowledging what had just happened. Her head buzzed with empty and lost sensations. 

The lingering stares from passerby’s shook her from the stupor. Their inaudible whispers were louder than the firecrackers, screaming and shrieking in her ears.

“Was that a fight?”

“It had to be.”

“I wouldn’t have let my sibling talk or manhandle me like that. Who raised them?”

“Gosh, so late. I can’t believe they’d create a commotion like that.”

“Isn’t that the feature girl for the performance?”

Mari hurriedly stood, face red and breathing shallow pants. What happened? What just happened? What did Sunny do?  

Her chest was aching. They didn’t do that. That wasn’t them. He was her little brother. She was his sister-- his best friend. They weren’t supposed to-- they didn’t fight . Mari tried to remember exercises and techniques to placate a panicked mind, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember any of it. She clasped her cheeks, eyes suddenly blurring.

Mari was still trying to comprehend his words. Flashes of what he said racing through her head drove knives into her chest. What was he trying to say?

None of that is true. She felt terrible. The fact that a fight had transpired between them was worse than rationalizing it. Mari likely would’ve remained there if it wasn’t for a sudden nudge on her shoulder. She quickly looked to the side-- locking eyes with Hero. He looked worried and concerned, brushing a lock of hair from Mari’s face. “Hey, hey. Look at me. What happened? Why did Sunny push you?”

Hero saw that? What about the others? Mari’s eyes flickered past his head towards the distance. Basil and Aubrey were raptly listening to something that Kel was explaining with wide and broad gestures, too engrossed in him to notice the altercation a distance away. She felt relieved, though was prompted with immediate confusion to what the relief was for.

“...- Sunny was just frustrated,” Mari then haltingly began, “That I said we shouldn’t have gone to the beach today, after he said his violin wasn’t working. I said I should’ve stayed behind to deal with it.”

Realization dawned upon him. It was then proceeded with a troubled look-- as if his whatever private thoughts he had came into fruition. Hero’s expression grew taut, brows furrowed together, as if contemplating what to say, before ultimately choosing to rub her shoulder and speak gently. “He’ll be okay. Sunny’s a good kid, Mari. He’s your brother. He’ll come around.” Then, more cautiously, “We need to have a heart to heart about this whole recital thing when we get home, alright? I’ve been starting to notice something about how it’s affecting how you see Sunny.”

She let out a surreptitious sniff, rubbing an eye. Mari glanced towards his hand. She hadn’t realized how a simple action like that could mollify her. She cupped his palm with her pale hand, giving a tiny nod while Hero spoke. Her eased expression was displaced by the same, anxious one before as he finished, though. We need to have a heart to heart.

What did he mean? Mari regarded herself as a conscientious person, moreso than Hero. If something was awry, she knew; if something was amiss due to her own actions, she’d correct herself in posthaste. Frustration bubbled in her gut that Hero had noticed a problem that escaped her judgment. She hated that-- but Mari began blinking hotly, chewing the inside of her cheek. 

What’s wrong with you? She felt dismayed for critically assessing herself first. This is about Sunny. 

“Mari?” Hero softly asked. How long had he been calling out her name? He softly shook her shoulder, giving a searching glance towards the girl. “Mari, it’s alright. You aren’t gonna figure this out right now in your head.”

She blushed. “I’m sorry, you’re right.”

“It’s alright,” He quickly added, before offering her a grin. “Like I said-- tomorrow. Let’s get you up in the meantime, alright? I can’t have my princess sprawled on the dirt like this.”

Mari smiled wanly, too exhausted to say something coy in response. She took his outstretched hand and rose. When the three children approached with confusion plastered on their faces for why they’d seen Mari on the ground, Hero had offered some transparent and dismissive excuse. She used the opportunity to awkwardly turn face, dusting pebbles off her denim jacket and hoping neither of them saw her bright eyes. The last thing she’d want to do was stain the memory of tonight for them.  Emotion was still ricocheting everywhere inside her chest like shrapnel, but Mari had managed to suppress it. She felt hurt and confused more than anything else; trying to discern the memory of what words she and Sunny exchanged. 

Hero gave her an innocuous tap on the shoulder before she could delve too deep. Her gaze interchanged abruptly from the kids. She gave them a grateful look, taking the coolers and choosing to briskly stride back to the car; she was too much of a mess to be anything but in motion right now.

Her dad had beamed it’d keep his kids safe as much as it looked nice parked by the street. It was a van, large and mercedes, bulky and geometrically stocky from every angle to look at. Mari loathed driving it; the wide turns and big presence on the road made her squeamish. It just wasn’t her style. Hero proposed to drive, but it was the family’s car. The children seemed to derive enjoyment from it, at least. They gasped and seemed positively thrilled by the fact that it had six seats - right on the dot - to accommodate all of them wherever they wanted. Kel and likened it to Captain Spaceboy’s spacefaring vessel, where Aubrey had rolled her eyes and Sunny eagerly bobbed his head in agreement. Mari mildly thought they wanted to paint it blue and green.

Sunny was standing beside a door, dully looking at the ground. Of course. I didn’t unlock it . Mari hesitantly opened her mouth to speak as she approached, but paused. It was like her tongue was curtailed. She didn’t know what to say.

Just wait until tomorrow like Hero said. A small heave came from her. Sunny flinched at the noise, quickly darting his brown eyes towards her, before Mari offered a weary stare back. She clicked the keys and the doors clicked open with a prolonged beeeeeep.

Mari paused when it seemed as if he was about to speak. Nothing proceeded, though, before Sunny gave her one of his hallmark enigmatic and impersonal looks. He wordlessly slid the van open and clambered into the passenger seat most distant from where she’d be driving.

Her eyes narrowed, trailing the back of his head with resentment. She bit back and exasperated sigh and a dry, sardonic comment. Her patience was starting to wither. Why do I have to reach out? He lashed out at me. I don’t get it.

She trudged herself towards the driver's seat, sliding into the leather confines. Mari mumbled some unheard expletive as the material stuck to her skin while everyone else filed in, happily chatting and discussing their day. She could hardly remember anything about it now. Mari glanced towards her reflection within the rearview mirror; her eyes looked haggard and spent, devoid of the sparkle she was sure was there a few minutes ago. 

Well, whatever. It was difficult to control your mood. Mari had penned herself for being a composed person, but tonight was sending her in a spiral.

Mari jammed the key into its hole. The perfect image. Just a tool. When’s the last time we spent time together? She gave a twist so hard it felt like the metal was about to snap. 

What does Sunny know? The car guttered to life and the radio crackled out static snow. It was nauseating-- she’d forgotten they were listening to something before getting here. Mari cranked the knob down hard , but that didn’t decrease the noise of conversation around her. 

She felt like screaming-- why couldn’t things just be quiet for a moment? Just a moment of solace would go a long way. She could unravel her thoughts, dissect the mess of what happened, and absolve both of them of the chaos which erupted like a geyser. It was so thick and black Mari could practically taste it. 

Mumbling something underneath her breath, whatever words they were escaping her comprehension, Mari felt helpless. It was just senseless garble. She glanced past her shoulder as the car began to reverse.

The van swiveled on its axel before ambling down the road at a slow pace. Mari was glad that the interior of the vehicle was so dim and the lights so ineffective; it served to conceal the intense annoyance written on her face as her head was turned. The large tires crunched against the gravel before gliding off the parkinglot and onto the winding, dark road, the headlights illuminating patches of greenery and empty space which shouldered it on each side. There were far too many potholes and other erosions that she could count.

Mari had navigated the roads hazards as expeditiously as she could when they arrived in the morning, but now, she could hardly muster the motivation to care. The van unevenly tipped from one side to the next as they bumped against the craggy surface. There was the occasional ‘ohhh’ and ‘ahhh’ from the back, as if they were traversing through space. Captain Spaceboy’s very own crew. Stupid. Mari gritted her teeth as the hazy vague outline of the freeway made itself apparent.

“Mari?” Someone gently pressed a hand against her shoulder. Mari’s eyes flitted to the side, before the irritation she felt made itself too apparent. “What is it?”

Aubrey’s blue eyes met her own. Riding shotgun went to her; Mari didn’t even realize. She balked underneath her tone for a moment, surprised, before giving an apologetic smile and squeeze on her arm. “Thank you for driving us. I know you don’t like being out on the road at night. I had a lot of fun today.” I think something’s wrong too, and I hope everything’s alright. That was what Mari felt she meant to say too.  When’d she get so observant?

You have to be to understand Sunny, Mari abruptly thought. Her sullen mood slowly faded before Mari gave a quick smile and sideways hug back, returning her gaze back to the highway that had encroached all too fast.

There were scarcely any cars heading inland to Faraway Town. Mari had deduced the right month in summer, complimentary week, and ultimately day that would be convenient for everyone. An occasional car streaked down the road, but they seamlessly slid down the ramp and entered the sparse traffic. The night was clear, and Mari could see the white crescent of the moon gleaming from afar. She silently glanced inbetween the endless road and the sky. It was captivating. Clouds encircled it like white froth crashing on the beachside. 

She’d gotten her wish; the active talk around her gradually became ambient chitchat, finally fading into quiet silence. Mari could hear Ke’s audible snores pervade louder than the low rumble of the van against the road. It made her chuckle.

It was like one of those rare, unspoken sights that Mari felt only you could privately understand. She’d roll the windshield down and feel the cold air rush by if it wouldn’t wake anyone up.

Mari had her moment of respite; now she could think about the conversation fully. She spared a quick glance past her shoulder. Sunny was tucked inbetween Basil and Kel, a line of drool trailing down his pale cheek. She giggled. He had such a hard time falling asleep in places elsewhere from their room, but it seemed like today was too exhausting for that to be a dilemma now. 

Tired because of today, or because of me? The thought cracked through her mind like lightning, jagged and rough with emotion. Her sentimentality was ruined; Mari warily looked back to the road and a lone truck a distance away from them. It was a better sight to her than her own brother right now. 

She didn’t know how to feel.

Was she too hard? She didn’t mean to be too demanding of him. She just wanted to bring out the talent she knew Sunny had. Mari just wanted to reach the pinnacle of each of their potential together. You had to make some sacrifices to get there. 

She never made him do it alone, either. Mari was always there, practicing in the same room, laboring over the piano, bruising her fingers over the keys until it felt like they were going to blister and bleed. He said they didn’t spend anytime together, though. What did he mean? She never regarded him as a tool in that aspect; it was a two piece act, a duet. Without Sunny, all of it would just be pointless.

What wasn’t she getting? Mari’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel. Her knuckles would’ve been stark white if she could see them. The truck was wobbling in it’s lane, like the security of Mari’s own thoughts. 

You just want your brother for the perfect picture. She didn’t like that. Mari wished she could reason with him like a peer from a class, arguing about their interpretation of the text-- some algorithm. She didn’t need Sunny to be perfect, he just had to aspire towards something. 

Sunny was the one that chose to learn the violin, after all. It was something he did so enthusiastically; it made her happy to see it. He was too passive. He had so much passivity that it made Mari sick with worry. 

Why does this matter to you so much?  

Of course it matters to me. I want you to admire yourself like I know how you deserve. She shook her head tiredly. But you have to work for that, Sunny.  

Mari chewed her bottom lip roughly, as if to rouse herself to stay alert and conscious-- mostly to think about this than focus on the road ahead. She was hardly paying attention to the latter.

Maybe she was being too hard. That was likely what Hero had meant to say before. Alright, I’ve clued it all together. If she could just explain to Sunny, reach an impasse,  it’d be fine. They had to think about the recital. It mattered too much too neglect and build his character. They should’ve had this conversation far earlier; it was a waste of time to even go to this beach. 

Mari quietly chastised herself for neglecting that an underage girl couldn’t drive other juveniles. To take them to the beach, out of all places. She was starting to get irresponsible. In the pursuit of guaranteeing everyone’s happiness, Mari had forgotten the larger picture. 

Starting tomorrow, alright.

There was a sudden, loud squeal of tires, before Mari felt something crash into the side of the van. 

She screamed, and the world went white. 

Chapter Text

“-- So that’s when I think is a good time for the trip,” Hero finished, tossing the pebble. As faultless as he was, it skipped across the lake impeccably. “What do you think?”

It was a dewy morning. The sun had yet to mount the encircling trees, its pale light filtering through the dark foliage. A fog swathed the clearing, rising up from the lake in rolling, grey vapor-- like the breath of some slumbering beast lairing below. It chose as good a place as any to sleep, Mari thought; nobody would disturb it, let alone at this hour. Until the sun would fully ascend and burn the mist away, it was as if her and Hero were somewhere else, somewhere enchanted, somewhere special and egress, from their simple Faraway Town.

“Mari? Earth to Mari? Is she still in there?”

She jolted awake. Mari offered Hero a sheepish grin from the picnic blanket. “Sorry, sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”

“Up late again?” His voice was dry. Hero inspected the shore where he stood with deep consideration. “I thought that a girl like you kept curfews in mind.”

“And she’s scandalized you’d whisk her away all for yourself,” Mari replied, offended. She couldn’t help the smile teasing itself along her face. “You’re lucky she even agreed to your date.”

Hero laughed as he bent, taking an oblonged rock in his hand. “It’s not a date. I just wanted to demonstrate my talent to someone I thought would appreciate it.” He crooked his arm, assumed a stance, and flicked his wrist; the pebble flashed across the water, before disappearing into the mists with a heavy plink. Hero flashed her a grin. “Cool, right?”

Mari hid her giggles behind a hand. I’d nourish off this if I could. The banter, the coy remarks, the electric undercurrent that made her heart thump. Hero was extraordinary. What they had was irreplaceable, and she couldn’t help but feel sentimental. Just how lucky am I?

He jogged back to the blanket, taking a seat beside her. “No, but really. Is this weekend good for you?”

“What were you asking?” Mari said. She offered him a small and apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I am tired. Only a little. I’m listening now, though.”

Hero frowned. “The trip to the beach.” He ran a hand through his hair-- something done to endear himself to her. Otherwise, it was a habit borne from consternation. “We’ve been talking about this all summer, remember?”

“ Ah. Right.” Mari made a noncommittal noise, before resting her gaze to the space inbetween their legs.

A pregnant silence followed. The lake softly lapped against the pier. 

“You don’t want to do it anymore,” Hero finally ventured. 

“It’s not like that.” She frowned. “I didn’t say no. Even then, I don’t like your insinuation that I wouldn’t want to do it for the wrong reasons.”

“Mari, you weren’t answering me.”

“You put me on the spot. I was thinking, and you decided to assume the worst from what I could possibly say.”

“Hey, hey--” Hero threw his hands up, “-- You’re putting your thoughts in my mouth. You think it’s irresponsible when we have school and your recital coming up, right?”

“Something like that, yes.” Mari was suddenly alert. Her brows creased together, smoothing her new plaid skirt. Mari had worn it in furtive hope Hero would remark on it, but now, she felt annoyed. “This is not the moment to be…- lackadaisical . Next summer would be better.”

Again, Hero ruffled his hair. “Maybe, but how many more summers do we have? It’s less for you and me-- and you know they’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Hero, is this all you wanted to spend time with me about?” Mari rebutted, unable to mask the irritation in her tone. 

“When else could I have talked to you about this?” Hero gently said. His patient tone was anything but driven by condensation. “You’re busy all the time. Between practice for the SAT, the piano, thinking about school, and spending time with us, it’s hard for me to find an appropriate when for these type of conversations-- and I wouldn’t want to talk like this with everyone else around.”

“I wasn’t sure how else to approach it.” Their knees brushed, and Mari brought her eyes up to Hero’s. His stolid brown gaze evaporated her anger; Mari averted her gaze back down to the checkered surface of the blanket. 

Hero briefly touched her knee, before rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to get you to say sorry,” He chuckled.

She felt a sharp and guilty pang in her chest. God, that was childish of me. A beat followed, before Mari exhaled, shaking her head. “No, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like my enemy about this.”

“You know I’d rather die by your tyrannical hand than ever fight back,” Hero quipped.

Mari softly laughed. She slid herself to Hero’s side, resting her weight against his shoulder, crooking her head beside his neck. A secret smile played on her lips as his face flooded red; he took no initiative to remove her. Another silence descended-- less palpable and thick, but more tender, than before.

“These things just matter to me,” Mari finally began, “And I’m uncomfortable to not focus on them. Performance is proportional to effort; that’s what my pianist told me when I began to learn. If I underwhelm, then I won't obtain the results I want.” She kicked her feet, watching little motes of light glint off her shoebuckles. The sun had ponderously rose over the treeline, diminishing the cold mists to curdling strands. “I didn’t mean for that to become an obstruction. That wasn’t my intention.” Mari chewed the bottom of her lip. “I didn’t intend for my needs to impede everyone’s wants.”

He didn’t reply. Hero extended an arm around her shoulder, anchoring the two together.

“I don’t think how I feel is wrong.” Mari paused, before correcting herself. “For me, it isn’t, but for everyone else, it would be. Choosing school over a trip?” She continued lightly. “In their position, I would hate it.”

“And it annoyed you-- how I implied you were disregarding everyone's wishes,” Hero intercut. “That I didn’t understand how complicated your feelings were about this as well.”

“Of course you understood,” Mari huffed. “I was just being stupid. You don’t need to…- ameliorate me, at your expense. I don’t like that. I was in the wrong.” 

“Ameliorate? Lackadaisical? You’re on a roll today.”

Mari smiled. “Shut up.” Her hand snaked up, threading itself through Hero’s fingers. He was warm to the touch. “Hold me accountable, please. What would I do without you?”

“Never replace me, I hope.”

She snorted. “Again, shut up. You’re terrible.”

“But not that terrible, right?” Hero flashed her a grin. She always thought there was a certain dependability to him and Kel; it was what made them tantamount to one another. However boyish his sibling could be and how mild Hero was, their sincerity always shone through.

Mari’s mind wandered. But they were always like that. She remembered middle school. Mari was pensive to leave Sunny behind in elementary, but ecstatic to grow, and I think I’ve always been like that too. She wanted to move, move, and move , and apply herself in earnest to any goals that life would pose. In the refractions of the pool, Mari saw the bulletin before her homeroom on her first day. There were a litany of clubs and activities tacked on its surface; band, chest, the school paper, but nothing captivated her more than the softball advertisement. It was a stillframe of an athlete in a soiled white jersey, sleek black batting cap, and arms twisted in visceral momentum that the image only barely captured, the ball hurtling towards the arcing bat in a white smear. 

But what seized her the most was his expression. Fierce, almost savage, his lips curled back in a rictus sneer, little more than a naked of teeth, face shadowed by the rim of the helm, more vessel of force than human. Completely consumed by the moment of action. Her heart raced with excitement. 

Mari thought he could die, and only realize he died, after his will left him first.

Her teacher was indulgent at least. “Aren’t there better clubs for a young girl like you?” She kindly asked. Before Mari could really ingest the implication, a boy chimed in. “I think she should do whatever she wants to do. What’s wrong with that?”

Her head spun to the speaker, and he wore that smile he nursed just for her; a little timid, a little bashful, and a little vulnerable, but sweet and kind in the way that still made Mari’s chest flutter. Fantasy is the product of fiction, but her Hero was real all the same. 

A shaft of light dazzled the waters, blearing Mari’s vision and divorcing her from her deep thoughts. If Hero had dozed as well, Mari didn’t know. 

“I have been staying up later,” She admitted, eventually. 

He gently squeezed her hand. 

“I’m worried about my future, the recital. It’s just a culmination of things. I’ve been staying up later to apply myself to all of it.” Her brows furrowed, before continuing with halting, uncertain words, like they weren’t meant to be said. “But even if it worries me, I like-- I like it. I like the endeavor of it. I love the piano, I love school, and I love working towards my aspirations. I love my passions, and want to perfect the pursuit of them, in a way that mediocrity or apathy just don't know.” The vowels were laced in doubt and the syllables rolled off her tongue difficulty. Like it was wrong to say. “You know I like to be dedicated. I’m just losing sleep because I need somewhere to fit these things in when we’re so busy in the summer.”

And, again, a silence fell upon them, but redolent with a charge. 

Mari squirmed beneath his arm. “Your silent judgement is killing me.”

“It’s not like that. I’m just thinking.” Mari espied his face from her head’s position on his shoulder. It was contemplative. Hero ran a thumb across his bottom lip-- something he always did when seriously mulling on any topic. It was as if reminding himself of the shape of his being made the thoughts he sought more tangible, real. 

Mari made herself tease him. “And have you reached a prognosis?”

“I’m not even sure if I want to be a doctor. You’re the only person I’ve told; my parents would go ballistic. They’d think the chance was reality." Hero offered a faint smile, but it receded back into his introspective look. His eyes flicked to Mari.

“You don’t have to mince it,” Mari reassured, catching the apprehension that played on his face. 

“Honesty does not require you to forgo being considerate.”

“Hero.”

“Okay, okay.” Hero’s voice took on a certain tact. “I admire your determination, I do, I really do-- but your strive for perfection is hurting you as much as others. The prospect of missing one day shouldn’t upset you like this. It’s not something that I think. I know that your fixations are starting to come off as egregious.” 

“If perfection is the wrong word, then it’s control.”

He extricated himself from Mari, and before her alarm could fully flare, Hero turned to take Mari’s hands in his own. “I’m not saying this to invalidate your feelings. Even if you didn’t just explain, I knew how much these things matter to you.” Hero arrested her gaze with his own. His eyes were tender and brown, something that always made Mari’s heart ache. “From my perspective, it’s not hard to see.”

“You’re letting yourself be consumed by this. You have standards for yourself that are insurmountable, but somehow, you meet them, but because of that, I think you’re just scared of being anything but the Mari you imagine yourself to be. We haven’t even referenced Sunny as an aspect in all of this. At least, for me, just consider relaxing. Please?”

Mari stared at Hero, stupified. 

A snicker suddenly escaped her mouth. It beget further laughter, her light giggles joining the coos of morning doves. His eyes creased with confusion, before the words Hero meant to say were…

… Silenced, as Mari leaned over, cupping his cheek and pecking his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mari gravely intoned. Hero stammered as she traced the perimeter of his face with her thumb, stealing another quick kiss. Their brows bumped together as a smile cracked along her face. “Thank you. You’re right. I have been silly about all of this. I’ve squandered the precious time that could have been spent watching you skip rocks.” 

“I think I’ve been more than appeased,” Hero breathlessly said. 

“Still. I'm sorry, Hero. I really am. I made you deal with my completely avoidable neurosis if I was just being a little mature.”

“Mari, you are mature. Do you know what people our age can be like?” His cheeks were tinged a warm shade red, but Hero’s grin was a mirror of her own. “And besides, don’t apologize. It’s fine. I want to be here for you. I…-”

The words trailed into shy nothings. Mari’s expression softened, her heart firmly thumping in her chest, as the unspoken everything permeated between them; she drew Hero into an embrace, twining her arms around his neck. He stiffened, before immediately relaxing, melding into her touch, and as Mari closed her eyes, savoring his presence, cherishing his being, their witness the beast abed the pond, bewitched to sleep by the weight of their love, the depth of their connection, it was impossible to say where he began, and she started. 

“Thank you for being my constant,” She whispered to his ear, before drawing him into a longer kiss.

And Mari thought that it was impossible for life to be like this, before a thought nagged her mind. But what did he mean about Sunny?

Hero’s lips were suddenly cold to the touch. It was sticky in something damp and slick; the taste was distinctly acrid and coppery.

Reflexively, she parted her head and opened her eyes with mounding confusion-- and a horrified, strangled noise, left her throat. Hero was disfigured, mangled, his face a ruin, savage cuts thatching his face like red wide smiles. His eyes were darkened cavities, and his lips desiccated and withered. And when they pulled back into a bestial grin, exposing filthed, tapered teeth, his head lowered. And he kissed her.

Stop, Mari wanted to say, before his mouth swallowed her own. A choked gasp was trapped in her throat as his tongue wriggled down like a maggot. Mari remembered herself-- remembered her hands left paralyzed by his neck-- before with a surge of fear retracted them to his chest-- and shoved as hard as he could.

Pain screamed up her face as Hero’s head lolled back, his grin lopsided and bloodied, before collapsing on his back; his body roiled with a violent and unseen current. What happened? What’s happening? Her mind blazed with agony. Tears swelled in Mari’s eyes as a hand frantically felt her lip, feeling teeth and gums where a patch of her lips should be. Hero suddenly fell still, deathly still, and as Mari clutched her face in delirium and pain, he exploded. Hot viscera and giblets of gore lathered her in a deluge, before a scream wrenched itself from Mari’s lips.

Inexplicably, her eyes rolled up. The sky was red and fuschia, striated by stygian black clouds; they wept unsought tears that boiled to the touch. It’s a nightmare, Mari desperately thought, It’s just a nightmare. Yet she still tried to scrape the blood and smoldering rain off her body, watching in horror as her skin sloughed off too.

There was a deep braying from the lake-- like the maddened stamp of horses, the frenzied kicking of a bull, a monstrous wave come bellowing down. The water was fractalized glass, riven with gossamer-thin lines, and glowed with a deep red phosphorescence, like aortal rich blood. A shimmering miasma suffused the clearing, before something black and shapeless shattered the lake with a scream. Shards flew like hail, and its baleful eyes locked with her own.

And Mari

Is

Gasping, shuddering as cold air flooded her lungs, reeling from unwaking realities coming crashing down to living dreams. Her head was a cacophony of unprocessed senses and unregistered pains. A dull squeal pounded in the base of her head like a chisel. Something was crushed against her body.

A deafening silence suffocated Mari, interspersed with the noises of her pained hiccups, a primal roar close by, and the unmistakable guttural crackle of fire from afar. She couldn’t think; her wits were flayed by waves of pain. She couldn’t see; her eyes felt clamped shut by a wet plaster. She couldn’t move; her body was entombed by something large and bulky. She couldn’t act.

Move! Something shrieked in her. With a groan, Mari pushed against the obstruction which impressed against her face and chest. It was soft, and immediately began to decompress. An air bag. Clarity entered her mind in a torrent-- driving, a crash, and nothing.

No, not nothing; what happened was a collision. It hurts to think. 

Her mind was leaden, like trying to wad through thick morass. Mari choked back a sudden sob that swelled in her throat. Still, Mari gathered the airbag in her trembling, shaking hands, and forced her lidded eyes open against the crust of blood that had formed.

She saw hell.

The front window had shattered; powdered motes of glass were coated everywhere. From the stabbing pain that lanced up across her body, Mari was certain tiny fragments were gouged into her skin. 

The world outside was pitched dark. Everything would have been completely indistinct, if not for the blinkering lights of her car, and beyond, the red brake-light of the truck emissions only a small distance away. 

It’s darkened outline looked strange, misshapen; like it was ploughed into the ground that didn’t make sense. The back tires still spun, the engine combusted uselessly, and wheels pointlessly snarled for traction that was there-- running for a road that was not to be found. As the spotlights of Mari’s car strobed, the flickering lights cast the night in spastic frames, like the shuttering of a camera. It was ghoulish.

We’re in a dugout, Mari numbly thought, panting, feeling dizzier. I can’t see the road. Some instinct compelled her to stand-- or at least, to try to. She abruptly realized that her feet were grounding up, not down, and that her hands were limply scraping against the battered car ceiling. What?

She furiously blinked, as if it would dispel the disorientation. It did. Mari felt white, numbing shock, as she felt the seatbelt biting into her sternum like a lash, her arms uselessly dangling overhead, and that her vision of the world was inverted. 

I’m upside down. Mari forgot to breathe. Is the car upside down? Someone brought a knife to her head, carving her wits and leaving nothing but empty agony in its wake. -- Why I'm so dizzy. A keening noise tore itself from Mari, little less than a shrill laugh, little more than a raw sob. Hot unbidden tears streamed down her face as violent convulsion wracked her chest; pain was a beast that left Mari skewered in it’s fangs. She wanted it to stop. She wanted to die. It would kill her, yet Mari would thank it for finally bringing an end to its torture. 

But a name lanced through her mind, as cold and blazing as a winter dawn. Sunny!

Mari’s hands lurched-- fumbling for the seatbelts release. Eternity compacted into seconds followed, before she brushed over the button with aching fingers, pressing down with a click! The seatbelt zithered away, and Mari plunged, only remembering to shield her neck and head at the last second.

Her vision became a blur of greys, blacks, and then greys again. It felt like hammers smashed her fingers to pieces, and Mari groaned beneath the impact. The pedals jutted against her oblique, her head swam, but the more she moved, moved, and moved, she could feel the hurt slowly abate, and wild focus grip her mind. Move!  

Mari twisted, before removing herself from the fetal position she had assumed, as her hands groped up for the handle somewhere to the side. She found it. She gripped it. She heaved, before the car door opened with a squeal, and toppled out into the kiss of cool night air.

She laid strewn across the ground, listening to her heart pound against her chest, blood roar in her ears, and dirt grate against her bare skin. I forgot to zip the jacket up, Mari inanely thought. Then she heard herself make a noise; like some ragged exhale on the precipice of becoming a scared whimper. It rolled off her lips as the exhilaration dwindled into fear, pain, and ache. Her hands dug into the ground, forcing herself upright.

Sunny-- Everyone--

It was like balancing on stilts with daggered ends. Pain shrieked up her legs, before her arms were windmilling, and she collapsed to a shaking knee; feverishly, Mari rose again. Please. You can’t fall. You can’t fall now.

Mari didn’t. She wobbled, but her feet were entrenched against the surface, like buoys in the storm. You did it, Mari exulted, before another spasm of pain left her staggering. A hitched sob betrayed the girl's resolve. Move!

But what do you do now? Mari had prioritized putting herself in the position to act, but now, everything escaped her. Triage. Triage. Hero called it triage. In extraordinary circumstances, determine the severity of what could be done. Mari mouthed the word numbly, clinging to it like a lifeline. She was their lifeline.

A fire had begun in the distant underbrush; she didn’t care for how it began, only that it better illuminated the interior of the van. Her friends hung suspended in the vehicle, like dark specters in a haunt, as fear suddenly frenzied in her gut. How long were they all like that?

She took an instinctual step forward back, hunched like an animal, bloodied, breath labored like she had outrun demons, to help them, to do something, but stopped, thickly swallowing. Think. You have to think. Mari shuddered, forcing her mind to race quicker than the pain could unravel it. 

Mari remembered menacing Kel for hanging upside down at the Park, saying his brain would turn to goop. He wouldn’t have believed Mari if she said the brain could bleed. 

It’s going to take too long to bring them all down. Did she even have the strength to do it? What if she hurt them? 

And what if Mari delayed real help by doing that? Someone could be fatally injured. You need to call help!

But what if she squandered these precious minutes trying to find a phone, explaining, begging, hoping they knew where they were? Do they know where callers are located? Do they? 

Could she scour for one of their phones inside the van while bringing them down? Can they come fast enough?

What do I do?

-- What about the other person? Wildly, Mari’s head wrenched in the direction of the truck. The vehicle was slanted against the ground. Having throttled off the road, its front was buried diagonally, the back jutting up like some ancient slab of stone. 

Mari was awash in its crimson brakelights, finally turning, finally acknowledging the other, desperately thinking of what to do, how to help them, feeling scared and weak, impotent and delirious, incapable of moving, moving, and moving, until a stilling thought ran through her mind. 

What if they have a dashcam?

The realization was like a knell from God. If the crash was recorded, then it could demonstrate if Mari caused this accident. Salvation for them still belied a hidden and ultimate damnation for her.

But it wasn’t my fault, Mari frantically thought, was it my fault? Her memory was porous. Terror and pain made it impossible to recollect. No. It wasn’t my fault. It had to be theirs.  

It wasn’t a matter of improbability, it was fact. She could never. Mari was defined by her perfection, poise, and grace. She could never cause something like this. She couldn’t have acted with such negligence to contribute to something horrific like this-- but she didn’t know why her mind was embroiled by chances over reality. 

All the possibilities clapped through her head like bullets. 

Charges, persecution, jail-- Three years? Six? A cold hand pincered her throat with iron fingers. The fragile sanctity of her life would be annihilated; she would be separated from everyone. Mari would be stained, indelibly. Her future would become a sulfur nothing. Everything she had come to know, come to love, had come to sculpt, shape, would be void. It would be irrevocable.

What would happen to Sunny? Tears welled in Mari’s eyes as she doubled over, the world rocking from below. She struggled to breathe.

If Mari was integral to the lives of many, then she was indispensable to him. Sunny. My brother. My little brother. What would happen to him if something happened to her? Nothing would happen to her, she didn’t do anything wrong, but-- My brother. My sweet brother. It would be ruinous. He wouldn’t know what to do. At times, watching him efface in the presence of others, Mari thought Sunny was like a tool, and she knew it was wrong to think that, she knew it was as bad as his passivity, but wasn’t it true? Mari had to guide and control him until he was ready.

What would happen if she wasn’t there?

Her thoughts from before the crash leered into her mind, and Mari choked with fear. He needs me.  

Like a marionette, Mari shambled towards the truck.

There. It was still affixed to the rearview mirror. The man inside the truck was swaddled in a deep murk that even the fire and erratic headlights couldn’t penetrate. Blessedly, the window had been retracted-- or if Mari stumbled over the shards, she didn’t feel it.

She reached in, dangling from the window, refusing to look at the motionless body inches from her. Mari panted, face red, arm already burning from the exertion. Her fingers latched around the camera. 

From the darkness, she could feel undying eyes bore at her with an unliving corpselight. 

With a tug, it came off with a suctioned pop. Mari stumbled back, just catching herself on her heels. She clutched the dashcam to her chest like a rosary. You need to break it. Mari knuckles whitened as if she could crush it.

The fire? No. It could likely withstand the heat and only be charred. Can I just throw it away? No. Someone could find it, even inadvertently. Mari’s eyes darted to the rotund rock that she had almost tripped over. It was flat, like a skipping stone.

Mari fell to her knees with a thud. Her eyes were lidded, beset by a heaviness. Weak pants continued to tumble out of her. She felt suddenly and acutely aware of every laceration, every bruise, and every mark that littered her body, but not yet. Not yet.  

She dropped the camera below her, gripping the rock in her slim fingers. It felt smooth and glossy to the touch, like the tongues of the piano. Mari hoisted the rock over her head, hovering there, leaving it there, betwixt the night above and this nightmare below, and for a moment, Mari saw herself in the pits of the lens; distorted, distended, monstrous and vile, like something fomented from the depths of the abyss.  

A vessel of action. Move!

Mari cried out, before bringing the rock down. It struck the lens, pulverizing the glass, aperture, and surrounding metal, but it wasn’t enough. She lifted the rock, and brought it down-- and lifted the rock again, crashing it down. She couldn’t mince it to a paste, but she could mangle the circuitry to nothing. 

The guttural crackle of fire, the bellows of madness, and the grind of stone on metal, interposed Mari’s heaves.

The rock rose up once, almost drunkenly-- and slipped from her fingers. Mari blinked, suddenly feeling her cheek touch against the ground. When did that happen? She tried to move, but it was as if she was put under duress by some great weight. Mari’s rabbit-quick pulse had slowed to a lull murmur, and a black, choking fatigue, seeped out from her gut, and festered all throughout her body. I haven’t done everything I needed to.  

But she was tired. Her heart gently thumped in her ears, lullabying her to sleep. Mari knew that she should be scared, that she had to fight, but the notions of what should be fell through her mind like sand in a sieve. 

How could she be anything but exhausted? She stirred, but only mustered the will to weakly ball her fists. There was a yawning darkness below her, and Mari was falling, tumbling, plummeting into its embrace. In the shadows she saw Aubrey beaming at her; Hero smiling and Kel grinning; Basil’s shy, kind looks, and Sunny’s quiet, soft eyes. 

What was I doing? What was I thinking? A feeling of panic fluttered up inside her, before immediately dying in a wave of reassurance. No, you did the right thing. You already know that you did the right thing. She was blameless, but it was still the right thing to do.

Mari’s mouth felt stiff, like something was wrong with it. Every inhalation was shallow, and every exhale burned her lungs. Still, her lips moved in a wordless prayer for her friends. 

As a veil overtook Mari’s eyes, her thoughts were of Sunny, smiling by the beachside. She watched him wad into the shallows, before disappearing into the honeyed, sunset waves. And then, without goodbye, he was gone.