Chapter Text
Boscha stares up at the moon. After the injured boy was rushed off in the ambulance, none of the opposing team wanted to continue, especially with how much they were trailing behind. With a forfeit, they congratulated their team and told Boscha it was an accident, it happens. Skara had to basically drag her to the Park's afterparty.
She blinks her eyes a few times, refocusing on the world around her instead of the world in her mind. She sniffs the air, enjoying the unique scent of overripe and rotting apples, finally comprehending she ended up in the orchard behind Willow's house. Boscha reorientates herself, seeing the bonfire in the distance and groups of students enjoying the orchard. One of which is behind her, if the crunch of leaves is any indication.
She pulls out her scroll and taps the light glyph carved into the back, shining a beam of light onto the stranger. Except, it's not a stranger. Willow flinches from the sudden bright light, startling Boscha, startling Willow even more, which startles Boscha yet again, both ending up on the ground like a bunch of fools.
They grab each other and help themselves get up, laughing at the absurdity. They look at each other and stop, smiles running away. They both speak at the same time.
"I'm sorry"
And they're both confused at why the other is sorry.
"You're sorry"
Willow lets Boscha explain first, feeling she knows what's going on despite not going to the game. Skara was pretty thorough over the scroll.
"I haven't gotten better, I just thought nobody would care if I got my anger out through football. I shattered a guys leg tonight" she says, tears pooling in her eyes. "It's my fault. I'm going to quit mon--"
"You are not going to quit because of an accident! Because, yes, this stuff happens in contact sports. You're not a monster, you made a bad call."
"That injured him permanently!"
Willow took a deep breath, remembering bad memories. She pointed at a tree towering above the rest near the house. "Around 3 years ago, me and Gus were climbing that oak tree. We were very high up, high enough I ended up jumping down onto the roof. He wanted down, like any 9 year old that far up would. I pressed him to keep climbing, directing him to a seemingly sturdy branch to lift himself up."
"Seemingly?"
"I heard the branch crack. I didn't hear him land. He was lucky he landed on a relatively soft pile of leaves and mud. He just cracked several ribs and shattered his left arm. If he hit his head, he'd be dead. If he hit the concrete path, he'd be dead. He'll never get full usage of his left arm again. It was my pushing him, my telling him to use that branch. But I wasn't the one to rot the branch. I did nothing to force him up. Probably, if he didn't come I've been the one to fall."
"Willow..." she breaths, unknowing what to say. But, she knows Willow isn't a monster. And if her mistake was worse and she's still good, Boscha's got a tool against that little demon on her shoulder.