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You were down at the river, washing clothes. A chore you’d been doing since you were twelve. There was nothing special about it. Nothing unique about today. Just beating clothes on rocks and laying the clean ones on another rock to dry. Then a rat with an arepa tumbled out of the skirt you’d been about to wash. You didn’t scream, rats had never scared you, but you did make sure it got out of your basket and on its way. Following the river to some rocks, and hopping across. Oh, it was protecting its ware.
You were curious, so you followed the rat across the river and into the forest, then to the base of the mountain and into a cave. Maybe it had other little rat friends? Or a little rat family?
Or a ghost.
Because the figure standing in the cave before you had to be a ghost. Because he wasn’t alive anymore. He couldn’t be alive anymore. He’d vanished. And the only way he could’ve vanished was if he died.
“Y/N?” You were hallucinating. That was his voice. That was his face. But that couldn’t be him. He was dead. “Uh, long time no see,” he said.
“No. No! You’re dead.” You started backing out of the cave. “I- I hit my head in the river! I tripped and fell and hit my head and now I’m floating downstream. And this is me dying. Am I dying?” Hands grabbed yours. Oh no, ghosts can’t touch people. You yelped, snatching your hands back. His hands were warm. Ghosts weren’t warm.
“Y/N! Y/N. It’s okay, you’re not dead,” he said, holding his hands out like you were a frightened donkey. That was exactly what a ghost would say. You wanted to scream, but if you were drowning that would make things worse. “Y/N, it’s me. Bruno. You’re not dead. I’m not dead. I need you to breathe, okay?” Then he set a hand on your shoulder and you were both breathing and maybe he wasn’t a ghost. Your heart rate returned to normal and you looked at him.
He was skinnier, hair greying and his ruana had definitely seen better days. But the same curls and big eyes. Same soft features you’d grown up with and been friends with.
“No. You- you disappeared…” He nodded, leading you back to the cave.
“I had a vision the night Mirabel didn’t get a gift, I knew how Mamá would react so I didn’t tell her. I left. And I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d be the first person they’d ask. I couldn’t drag you into my familia’s mess.” He was right. Julieta and Pepa had practically kicked in your door when he disappeared, demanding to know if you were hiding him because he wouldn’t do this.
Apparently he would.
“Bruno, we were best friends! I was already in it and I didn’t mind!” You couldn’t believe this. That was a weak excuse and he knew it. You’d told each other everything over the years, why would he shut you out all of a sudden?
“No, Y/N, this is different,” he said. “I- while I was gone I realized some things.” You looked at him, waiting for the big reveal, that you were drowning because that would make more sense than whatever this was. “The miracle is a curse. It has to be destroyed.”
Wait what?
“The miracle? The Madrigal Miracle? The thing that gave us a place to live when people burned down our old home? The thing that saved mis hermanos’ lives after our parents died? The thing that tu mamá has been protecting and guarding for fifty years? That miracle?” You couldn’t believe this. All the things your brothers had gone through to keep you safe, the parents you couldn’t remember because they’d sent their children ahead, the full harvests and safe life you’d always known, and Bruno wanted that destroyed?
He held his hands up. He had to remember what your families had gone through. He had to be joking. “Sí, Y/N, that miracle.”
You turned around to leave. “I’m dead.” It was the only solution. The only possible explanation for why Bruno Madrigal was suddenly alive and talking to you about ruining your entire life and the lives of everyone in the Encanto. He grabbed your arm to pull you back. Eyes pleading for you to understand. You couldn’t.
“Y/N, por favor. Listen to me. Mi mamá hates Mirabel for not having a gift. Mi familia is killing themselves to ‘keep the miracle burning’. We shouldn’t have a miracle! We don’t deserve one!” His grip was tight but the tears in your eyes weren’t from pain. Not the physical kind. You pulled your arm away but he was holding too tight.
“Bruno let me go,” you whispered. He didn’t, still yelling about his familia and their miracle. “Bruno!” He stopped. “Let me go.” He dropped your arm like a hot pot, hands up and looking at you with wide eyes. The tears were streaming down your face now. He might look and talk like your Bruno but he wasn’t. Your Bruno would never do this.
“I-I can’t listen to this. The…. the miracle isn’t just for you,” your voice was barely a whisper. You were imagining your brothers and all they’d done for you. You were imagining Señora Madrigal tucking you in once when you were young. You were imagining the Madrigal grandkids and all the good they’d done. “Your family might have gifts but first and foremost that miracle is for the town. The Encanto. You lost tu papá. I lost mis padres y dos hermanos. And I’m lucky. Some people didn’t even get that!” You don’t know when you stopped whispering and started shouting but he was selfish to sit here and say what he was saying.
“Y/N-”
“¡No! ¡Escúchame! And listen well,” you placed your hand on his chest, your blood boiling. “Too many things were lost. Too many people died. You destroy that miracle and we lose our Encanto! We lose the only safe place we have! You’ve never been out there! You don’t know what it’s like!”
“And you don’t know what it’s like to be a Madrigal! Mi mamá is out of control! Mirabel is a child!”
“A child you abandoned! I don’t want to hear anything from a person willing to leave and who only comes back to burn it all down! The last time mi familia listened to someone like that we lost five of us! Five people I will never get to meet but who I love and miss every day.” A sob tore itself from your throat. He looked hurt, eyes down turned and hands raised in surrender.
“Lo siento, Y/N,” was all he had to say.