Chapter Text
Hero held the flowers he bought for Mari and Sunny in both of his hands as he walked back from the plaza. Basil had given him a short lesson on the language of flowers, and Hero stayed up late the night before researching the perfect flower to convey the perfect message for the most perfect girl he had ever known. For Sunny, a bundle of lilacs; a symbol of youthful fondness. Although he was quiet, Mari's little brother truly did live up to his name. His eyes, being the same shade as his hair, looked like an endless void of thought. Thoughts that would be expressed in the oddest of ways. Like sad poems, or atypically passionate violin pieces that contrasted the stiff elbowed and wide eyed form the boy traditionally adopted. Sunny was a masterpiece, one that was accredited to Mari's tenderness and mother-like care for her little brother.
For Mari, Hero gathered several white camellias and paired them with forget-me-not's. Perfected gracefulness and love in its truest form. Yes, Hero had waited long enough to tell the girl next door how he felt. Years of teasing, soft-spoken apologies, even softer kisses on the cheek, and the entanglement of the pairs star-crossed souls had not yet resulted in a confession. Though the words didn't need to be spoken aloud, the boy felt like he owed it to her. He wanted her to know that he was ready to dedicate his love to her and her alone, and alas, he was finally ready. He now had plans to ask Mari to the old pond after her recital tonight. There, he would promise her his life, his world, his future, and everything else that would come in between. For Mari, Hero knew no bounds. The only thing that stood between their life together was time.
But somehow, in the span of a single second, that future was no longer.
Hero was halfway to his front door when he heard a scream from the yard directly to the right of his own. The yard of Sunny and Mari, and the cry of their mother. The sixteen year old froze. In some odd way, he felt hollow at that moment. Like a part of him was missing, and might never be found. After what seemed like a lifetime of paralysis, Hero began to run. He ran to the sidewalk, ignoring the deafening barks from Hector, down the pavement, across his neighbors' driveway, and flung open the gate that led to the treehouse. He hardly noticed as he dropped the bouquet of perfect flowers onto the asphalt of the street he grew up on, the forget-me-not's teasing their very name as soon as the boy saw his future with Mari vanish along with his innocence.
In that moment, Hero felt even more hollow than he had been in the moments before. Not only was Mari gone, the memories he wanted to make with her had vanished now as well.
"She's gone, and she killed herself."
The thought reverberated several times in his mind, creating an endless echo of guilt and saudade. His world turned from an unfinished symphony, one filled with the brightest of colors and sounds and the possibility for a future of harmony and perfection, to a photograph. Black and white and frozen in time.
Hero hardly felt the burning in his eyes as tears spilled out of them, just as he hadn't felt the pair of arms around his shoulders, belonging to Mari's mother. His body shook with the sobs of the both of them, mourning the loss of the sun as the moon rose in the eastern sky.
The sound of sirens, and flashes of blue, white, and red would've phased the boy had it been any other occasion. But the only thing that bothered Hero that night was the feeling of guilt that robbed him of air. Upon returning home, he could barely breathe. Everyone's voices became muffled and Hero could barely understand the meaning behind "i'm sorry" anymore. The haze surrounding voices had suddenly encapsulated all other aspects of the environment, and, after a moment, Hero found himself lying in bed. Had life worked out the way he wished, Mari would be in his arms. Breathing, moving, speaking. Perhaps she would have been returning his "I love you," or just holding her everything in silence. But Mari couldn't do that. Mari was gone and she killed herself.
Nothing had seemed strange about her in the days leading up to the recital. Of course, she was stressed that the piece wasn't absolutely perfect, but Mari would tire herself trying to make the perfect flower crown. That's just who she was. Had Hero known that her perfectionism would drive her to suicide, he would have tried talking to her. But Mari had been so normal. Smiling and poking fun at Hero for being worried about her. He had told her that she needed to eat, to take care of herself, but she just laughed. "That's my Hero! Always looking out for me," she smiled.
Looking back, Hero resented himself for not seeing how fake her smile had been. He was devastated to have lost Mari, and he couldn't help but blame his own ignorance. Thoughts filled his head and, once again, tears began to spill from his eyes.
Just yesterday, no, just a few hours ago, he had plans for his life with Mari. Plans for his confession, their prom night, his proposal, their future home. Hero had even picked out cat names he was sure Mari would love, so that they could be prepared when they welcomed a kitten into their shared life. Mari would tease him and say he sounded like a father, being so concerned with a name. And although he would never have admitted it, Hero had baby names that he loved as well. He had found his soulmate; she was the one. The boy thought he understood love, and he would use the term frequently, but he loved Mari unlike he loved anyone else. Who was he without her?
Staring at the ceiling, Hero decided that he no longer cared. It wasn't useful to waste time on missing her if she was already gone. The only person he could be mad at was himself, for being blind to whatever hint that might've been. Hero wanted so badly to accept her death, the logic in his shellshocked mind held steady; there was no bringing her back. And yet the ache in his torso remained. All he wanted was an answer, but she hadn't left a note to explain her suicide, not even a last goodbye. Why? Why was he so stupid?
Hero's vision warped. He had avoided blinking so as to not incite his tears to fall, but they eventually cascaded on their own. His cheeks were sticky from leftover tears, and his eyes were bloodshot. Every part of his body and soul was in pain. His eyes stung, his limbs ached, his ears rang, his head pounded, and even his heart felt burdened with fabricated pain. Following a knock at his door, he struggled to even mutter an invitation inside.
His mother quietly opened the door and made her way to the edge of her son's neatly made bed. Seating herself as Hero angled his head to look at her face. After a moment of silence between the two heavy gazes, she broke eye contact to look at the floor.
"We've been invited to her funeral," she explained, stepping carefully around the mention of Mari. "Her mother and father want you to say a few words, they believe it's what she would have wanted."
Hero looked at the wall that his bed was pushed up against and gripped his blanket tightly. "Is that so?" he asked, rhetorically. His nostrils flared and more tears pricked his eyes. Wiping them from existence, Hero sat up and looked at his mother.
She could swear that her son had died with Mari that night. His faded stare suffocated her. The light of her life, dimmed.
Kel stood next to the semi-open doorway, silently eavesdropping in on their conversation. His presence was to make a measly attempt at getting to bed, but he decided that it might be best to sleep on the couch that night. The orange sneakers he always wore pivoted on the hardwood floors as he exhaled. Though the moment was swift, Hero noticed through the space between the door and its frame. He lazily returned his eyes to his mother.
"I'll go, Mom." Hero said with a slight nod. Inside, he wanted nothing more than to run from this situation. His heart was writing novels of grief and resentment, and he was now expected to say just "a few words" at her funeral. Words of his love for her. He had been aware of this love for years, why hadn't he confessed to her sooner? Maybe if he had an ounce of a substance that resembled courage, he would've. And maybe then, Mari would still be alive.
Hero's mother nodded and quietly left to give him time alone. Burying his face in his hands, Hero fought the urge to run forever. Until his legs gave out or he fainted from exhaustion. He wanted to run far away from Faraway, until "far" was an understatement. For the thousandth time that night, Hero's bloodshot eyes produced a sea of tears deep enough to drown in. And for the first time in years, he slept in late the next morning.
Mari loved sunny days. She always said that her favorite things were Sunny and sunshine. But the world wasn't kind enough to allow sun on the day of her funeral. Fog weighed heavily over Faraway town, which wasn't common that time of year. Hero pulled the curtains closed and shook his pounding head at the insensitive irony. His thoughts of what he wanted to write hadn't ceased since he lugged out of bed, and now, as he sat as his desk, his mind had gone completely blank. "Just start writing," He thought to himself. "God, Hero, just write!"
In all honesty, he just wanted to go back to sleep. His subconscious mind was now the only place Mari was alive; he could see her again in his dreams. The sheets and blankets of his bed may have been unkempt, but they looked so depressively comforting. Knowing they would let him escape from the pain of reality was enough to force Hero into practically craving the weight of a blanket over his body. It vaguely reminded him of the hugs Mari would give whenever someone was feeling upset. Deep down, Hero knew she wouldn't want him to lose himself in the realm of unconsciousness, and there was a portion of his brain that tried to remind the rest of itself of that fact. If Mari had been the one to write a speech for his funeral, she would've done it exceptionally. Her words were just as perfect as any other aspect of her existence. Hero begged to know why he couldn't have saved her. Why was he so pathetic? Why hadn't he tried just a little bit harder?
Eventually, Hero decided to write about what he wished Mari could've seen in herself. After painfully recollecting memories of her sleepless nights stressing over piano keys, shaky fingers from braiding too many flower crowns, dried teardrops on test sheets of which she scored under 100%, and three hour long phone calls at one a.m. about her parents' expectations for college and her future, Hero never once remembered Mari being satisfied. She never accepted how extraordinary she had always been. And now, as nearly every citizen of the small town of Faraway gathered in the even smaller church, Hero realized that she may have been the only one blind to that fact.
The haze began to swallow the atmosphere shortly after the precession began. Only when his mother nudged his arm did Hero break the cloudiness and acknowledge that it was his turn to speak.
"I love you, Hero," She whispered as he shifted to stand.
Hero. Could he even call himself by that name anymore? For a nickname that was tied to a sandwich, it had a lot of implications about his disposition. Heroes are brave and insightful; Henry is a blind coward. A fraud.
With a folded piece of paper in his pocket, the young man made his way up to the lectern beside the casket to begin and finalize his untimely goodbye. As he had nearly reached his position, he caught a glimpse of "Mari". Only that wasn't Mari, just what remained. He swallowed hard and pinched back the tears daring to materialize.
After placing his letter, the loneliest boy in the world initiated the one thing he dreaded most: farewell.
"Hi everyone, my name is Henry. I've lived next door to Mari's family for several years. Mari and I practically grew up together, and I eventually reached a state of mind in which I couldn't imagine a life without her. She had become my cornerstone; someone who I could rely on to pick me up from the lowest of lows, dust the dirt off my shoulder, and give the most encouraging advice. Advice which could make anyone think that the impossible was not only obtainable, but easily achieved. Mari believed in everyone. While writing this speech, I remember nights where she wouldn't get a millisecond of sleep because she felt she hadn't studied enough or her performance for a piano recital wasn't to her liking. Then I remember hearing of her academic accomplishments or listening to her rehearse the same Chopin piece for the third time in a row, and I simply can't understand how lucky I had been to have her in my life. I love the light she brought to your life as well as mine. When I was nine years old, Mari taught me how to play a little bit of piano. The first song she taught me was one which remained high in her favorites for years, and is one you may know by the name of 'You Are My Sunshine'. She told me back then that it reminded her of the sun and Sunny, her little brother. She giggled and said that they both brought light into her life, figuratively and literally. In that moment, she became my sun. Her smile could bring warmth to the coldest winter day,"
Hero's heart tightened as he turned to face the casket.
"I'll love you forever and i'll always miss you. Until we meet again, Mari."
And for a moment, his world was silent. That was it. No ghost giving him a hug, no faint whispers in his ear. He became grounded in reality once again. He was a fool for hoping there was a possibility to see her just one more time.
"Thank you." he addressed the others.
The haze surrounded him once more as he glided back towards his seat. Upon reaching it, he tucked himself into bed. His perception of time became disfigured and his awareness blended itself into sludge. The muffled words had lost all meaning and he felt devoid of hope. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he willed the pain to fade into endless hours of sleep.
Hero's consciousness drifted through the void as he attempted to numb all feeling in his mind. Floating in nothing for forever. He wasn't fine, but he didn't feel bad. In fact, he didn't feel at all. His eyes no longer stung, and the boy honestly began to forget that they existed to begin with. His limbs melted into a "tv static"-like substance. After some time, all that remained was his thoughts, and all those thoughts belonged to Mari.
As if on cue, a short-nailed finger repeatedly tapped Hero's forehead. A forehead that had instantaneously materialized along with the rest of his body. Using copious amounts of strength, he opened his heavy eyelids to see who had disturbed his sleep. Before he could focus on the figure, Hero felt like he was forgetting something. And before he could finish that thought, Mari became visible.
"Sleeping again, Hero?" she questioned. "Sorry to disturb you, but I was feeling lonely without your company."
The rest of the atmosphere de-blurred as Hero lifted himself from her checkered picnic blanket. The sun was beginning to lower, but the hazy oranges and pinks hadn't shown themselves as of yet. Warm air blew as Mari placed her hand over his own.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Hero nodded and laughed breathily. A mysterious hollow feeling in his chest filled itself with warmth, which allowed him to smile. Dust and dirt fell from the boys knees as he stood and looked to the body of water nearby. The small pond the pair frequented as kids glistened beneath the setting sun. The atmosphere began to bear a pink tint. Hero extended his hand to help Mari to her feet, and she graciously accepted. Upon reaching a steady stance, she immediately began walking toward the old dock, refusing to let go of Hero's hand as she pulled him along.
Everything fell into equilibrium, which confused Hero. Of course, spending time with Mari always made him feel grounded and at peace. However, there was something about this scene that eluded him. Something that balanced a scale in Hero's soul, making him neither happy nor sad. He pushed it down, and replaced confusion with serenity. He wore a smile for himself and the girl he loved. To convince them both that he was in the right place.
A warm breeze blew past the pair as they stepped onto the old wood of the rickety dock. Hero watched as the wind struggled to move anything but the baby hairs atop Mari's head, but effortlessly coaxed the skirt of her white tea-length sundress to follow its lead, like a duckling following its mother. It seemed that even nature adored her, almost as much as he did.
Upon reaching the edge of the dock, Mari tucked her skirt beneath her legs and sat down. She patted the space next to her, inviting Hero to sit with her. He calmly followed suit, letting his ankles dangle into the water. Meanwhile, Mari's tiptoes barely grazed the surface of the still pond.
"I really hope you don't mind that I woke you up. You looked so peaceful lying there, but I knew you'd appreciate seeing the sunset," she said, staring idly at the reflection of the surrounding forest on the water before lifting her head to gaze at the pastel colored sky.
Hero smiled before looking upwards to stare with her. "I think it was thoughtful of you to wake me up. Being here is far better than staying in the dream I was having before, and this sunset is truly beautiful," he replied, every word spoken from his heart. He didn't really know what dream he was woken from; his mind kept it locked behind mental bars. Hero trusted that he'd remember eventually, but now wasn't the time. He had so much to tell Mari.