Chapter Text
The funeral was a small affair.
Yor may not have known Loid well, but she'd always thought he had a lot of friends. Besides her, Anya, the new dog, Yuri, and Franky, all the attendants were coworkers of his she'd never met.
Did he not have any friends besides Franky outside of work and the family?
It was a closed casket since they didn't even have a body, and the flowers were your regular funeral ones. Yor could practically hear the Shopkeeper whispering their meanings to her.
White lilies for rebirth and pink carnations for remembrance.
She was in her work dress, having no other formal black clothes. She'd gotten one tailored for Anya, though most couldn't see her since the girl was practically burying herself in the dog’s white fur.
Yuri had the expression of someone who'd eaten a lemon while Franky repeatedly excused himself, obviously to cry if his swollen eyes were any indication.
Yor didn't know how she looked. Maybe numb. Maybe sad.
She was a widow now.
The speeches were a blur. She and Franky spoke about Loid, as did a few of his coworkers, but she didn't pay attention to any of it.
She was a single mother now.
Time passed and the crowd started to disperse. A woman with white hair hesitated before approaching Yor, whose eyes were drawn to the potted plant in her hands.
Blue hydrangeas for sympathy, an apology, and understanding.
“Hello, Mrs. Forger. I'm Fiona Frost. I worked with your husband. He taught me everything I know. I'm sorry for your loss. If you or your family needs someone to talk to, whether professionally or casually, please don't hesitate to call me.”
Fiona handed Yor the plant and a business card, bowing her head. Anya peered out from behind the dog to stare at her with wide eyes and a tear-streaked face.
“Thank you. I will.” A spark of warmth spread across Yor’s face, and Yuri gave Fiona a grateful nod before she left.
More guests continued to leave until only Yor, Yuri, Anya, and the dog remained. The assassin picked up her daughter, who snuggled close to her chest. She held the dog’s leash with one hand and her brother’s hand with the other.
She'd survived her parents’ deaths and raising Yuri after. Yor could survive Loid’s death and raising Anya.
She had to.
Hours after the funeral ended, a woman entered the room holding a bundle of snapdragons, her heels clicking as she approached the casket.
“Good day. Or rather, good evening, Twilight. Sorry I'm late. You left a lot of paperwork behind. We'll manage though. We always do. I'm working on repairing relations in my day job. As for Operation Strix, it's being altered and Nightfall’s on the case now. I have a new mission for you. Make sure to find the peace you deserve in your next life.”