Archive of Our Own

BROKEN PROMISE

His arm was warm, and she always wanted to stay wrapped up in them. His hum was soft as he rocked the two of them back and forth on the rocking chair, as if he thought that this would still work to put her to sleep. She was a big girl now, this kind of thing wouldn’t work anymore. She cozied closer to him, and he kissed the top of her head. Mom likes to cozy up to him during the colder times of the year, too, but right now, he was all hers. She smiled as his chest vibrated under her cheek, and a warm hand rubbed up and down her back.

“I can take her, babe,” she heard her mom’s voice as she pretended to be asleep on her dad.

“No, no, it’s okay, let her sleep.” her dad replied, pressing his cheek against her as he pushed her up against him.

“Natsu,” her mom sighed, “you need to do your physical therapy, and you can’t do that with her on top of you.”

She felt a soft chuckle from her dad, “Physical therapy can wait, she’s sleeping.”

Her mom sighed, as if giving in, “Okay, fine, but your leg is never going to recover properly if you don’t do your therapy for it.”

“It’s okay,” he answered, “it’s not like I can join you on the battlefield in my state, anyway.”

“Natsu…” her mom sounded a bit concerned but also sad, “You… I offered to ask Wendy if-”

“It’s okay,” he replied, “Who would take care of Nasha if I weren’t here? It’s not like she can join you out there.”

Her mother groaned, and then she muttered, “with a victory so close at hand, too.”

“Go get some rest, Luce, you need it.”

She sighed, “Okay, fine.”

Her father continued to rock the two of them back and forth for a few minutes, rubbing her back. He wasn’t humming anymore though. She wanted him to continue, even if it didn’t work anymore in putting her to sleep, she liked the sound of it. He suddenly stopped rubbing her back, and the rocking slowly stopped. She didn’t want to get up, she didn’t want to go to bed, it wasn’t as warm and comforting as her dad.

“Nasha…” her dad muttered. She flinched. “Your mom’s asleep now… you can stop pretending.”

She sat up against him, and looked into his smiling eyes. He knew she wasn’t asleep. She pouted, she had thought she mastered pretending to be asleep this time. She gripped at his shirt, “Daddy,” she whispered, “you’re…” she glanced over at his other arm, the one that wasn’t holding her, the one that couldn’t hold her, “not going back there, are you?”

He smiled, and cupped her face in his hand, “Do you want me to?”

She ferociously shook her head, “No.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got to stay with you.” He pulled her closer to kiss her forehead again.

“Promise?” she asked, hesitantly holding out her pinky.

He smiled, and slowly moved his hand to link his pinky with her own, “I promise I’ll never leave you.” They stamped their thumbs together, and his hand cupped her face again, to lift her eyes to meet his, “I promise.” he repeated, as her hands gripped his shirt again.

“I… don’t want Mommy out there, either.” Nasha whined, gripping her hands tighter onto his shirt as if he truly was going to leave.

“Mommy said it’s almost over though.” Her dad smiled, sliding his hand to comfortably hold her back.

“So…”

“So Mommy will be home more often, too.”

She pouted, “So I have to share you with Mommy again?”

He laughed, wrapping his arm around her to hold her tighter, his other arm moved, too, but it couldn’t wrap around her anymore. She barely remembered the few times that it did wrap around her, but that was a long time ago, she hadn’t even turned four yet, back then. She wrapped her arms around his neck, cozying herself against his warmth. Her bed and the heater in her room did keep her warm, but it wasn’t anything like her dad’s warmth.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he muttered, grunting a bit as he got up from the rocking chair.

“I don’t want to go to bed.” she whined.

“You don’t want to go to bed?” he repeated, as he stood up, weight shifting as he did so, she wasn’t evenly against his chest anymore.

“I don’t want to go to my bed…” she muttered, and pushed herself away from him a bit to look at her dad’s caring face. “Can I sleep with you?”

He pouted, “Your mom’s gonna be disappointed that her big girl can’t sleep in her big girl bed.”

She looked away from him, “Mommy doesn’t have her own bed.”

He smiled, “Should Mommy have her own bed?”

“Mommy says I’m a big girl and I can’t share a bed with you, but Mommy shares a bed with you, so she’s not a big girl, either.”

He laughed, “Then… am I not a big boy?”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him, “No. Daddy’s a big boy. Mommy’s not a big girl, though.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek, “You're just like your mom!” He smiled, “So, let’s go to bed.”

“With you?” Nasha perked up, as he began walking, limping, over to the bedroom, his bedroom. Her mom said it was her room, and her dad said it was her mom’s room, but it was his. Nothing could convince her otherwise. Her mom wasn't home as often, and her dad was the one who slept in the bed all the time, not her mom. The door opened, and he shuffled to the bed, laying her down on it.

“You’re laying her down in our bed again?” she heard her mom mutter, she was tired.

Her dad laughed, a soft laugh, "You're still awake? She made a convincing argument,” he replied, climbing into the bed after her, so she was sandwiched between her parents. Her mom rolled over, and she immediately closed her eyes. That caring touch of her mom combing through her bangs that stuck out from her night cap was enough to let her know that her mom wasn’t actually mad that she was laying with the two of them right now.

“Convincing argument?” she asked.

“Yeah,” her dad replied, pulling the blanket up to cover the two of them with his hand.

“And this convincing argument was…?”

He leaned over, and she felt him get closer as she heard her parents kiss, “That if she’s a big girl and that’s why she has to sleep in her bed, then you aren’t a big girl because you don’t sleep in your own bed.”

She heard her mother gasp, “Who taught her these things?”

“Don’t know.” her dad answered, and she felt his fingers brushing against her face. “I’m sorry, Lucy.” His voice went soft, and weak. She didn’t like hearing from her dad like that, besides, he wasn’t the one who taught her these things, so why was he apologizing? Her mom should be the one apologizing for stealing him away from her all the time.

“Natsu,” her mom also sounded soft and weak but that was probably because she was tired, “you did your best. It’s not your fault.”

Her eyes widened as she got up from her bed, it was cold, “You’re a liar, Dad.” she whispered. She slowly got out of bed, slipping on her slippers, and shuffled her way into the kitchen where she could smell her mother’s cooking. As she opened the door to her room, her eyes lay on the rocking chair that sat off to the side in the living room. Why did they still have that damn thing? Nobody even used it. Nobody had used it for years. She had never seen her mother sit on it once, stare at it a few times, but she never sat on it.

“Oh, Nasha, you’re up?” Her mother asked, seeing her come into the living room. “I was about to go in there and wake you up.”

She groaned, and sat herself down at the table, “I want to go back to bed.”

Her mom smiled, placing a plate of food on the table for her, “I’ll be home late tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, and sat down, “There’s a memorial service for those who had died in the war, and as a general, I need to go.”

She groaned, “Okay, fine. Mind if I invite some friends over then?”

Lucy sighed, “Not at all.” She kissed her cheek, “I’m gonna get going then, don’t miss your bus again, Nasha, I don’t want to get another call from your school.”

“I won’t.” Nasha groaned, poking at the eggs on her plate.

Memorial service bullcrap, for people who died in the war? She knew the real reason her mom was going. To remember that man who couldn’t even keep a single promise. She sighed, and pushed the food away from her, now that she was thinking about him again because of that stupid dream she didn’t feel like eating. She needed to get ready to go, but she had no desire to. She took a deep breath as she looked up at the ceiling. What was so great about someone who couldn’t even stay with her?

The whole day so far was awful, there was too much homework that she had forgotten to do, and the teacher berated her in front of everyone for it. Greige of course didn’t make things any better, talking about how she should have ‘just turned something in’ because something was better than nothing, but she literally had nothing, even if she told the teacher that she didn’t finish it on time. Of course, he said that if she turned what she had in tomorrow, he’d give her half credit for it. Yeah, that was better than nothing, but with her current grades, it didn’t change much at all.

“So, why’d you invite us here?” Greige asked, plopping himself down on their living room couch.

“Wanted someone to hang out with,” she admitted, “and… I wanted to get rid of that stupid rocking chair.”

“The rocking chair?” Garnet asked, “but, like, isn’t that your dad’s?”

Nasha groaned, “Yeah, it’s his, but-”

“Nasha,” Garnet’s twin, Larima, sighed, “but haven’t you thought about what it might mean to your mom?”

Nasha sighed, “Yeah, she’s just too sentimental to get rid of it.”

“I’m fine with tossing it,” Greige replied, “The thing is like thirteen years old, and there’s no baby in the house anymore, right?”

Nasha smiled, “I knew someone would get it.”

“As long as we don’t get in trouble for it.” Garnet smirked.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Nasha-”

“My mom isn’t going to be home until late tonight, I think she’ll be pleased to be rid of this darn thing.”

“Are you sure, Nasha, haven’t you thought maybe there was a deeper reason on why she’d keep it?” Larima asked, taking a step closer to the rocking chair, hesitantly running her fingers over the wood, “I mean, despite it being ten years old, it’s still well taken care of and-”

“That’s just because nobody sits in it.” Nasha interrupted her, “It’s just taking up space in the living room.”

“I say we toss it.” Greige stated.

“It sounds like fun, should we dismantle it first, or-”

“Let’s just toss it out.”

“I don’t think you should do anything with it.” Larima snapped, “It’s obvious it means something to your mom… Garnet!” Larima exclaimed, “you know how dad wouldn’t let us get rid of that rusty old metal bike in the garage?”

He groaned, “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, he said it was his dad’s, that’s why he wouldn’t get rid of it. Oh, and Greige! Your mom wouldn’t let you get rid of that ice sculpture in the freezer a few years ago, right?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, mom said it was the first thing my dad sculpted after the war.”

She looked back at Nasha, “So, I don’t think that you should get rid of the rocking chair.”

“Who cares, it’s taking up space in the living room.” Greige muttered.

“And nobody even uses it.” Garnet butted in.

“Exactly.” Nasha smiled, “Alright, now that that’s decided, Garnet, you know how to use a screwdriver, right?”

“We’re going to dismantle it?” He asked, eyes sparkling.

“No.” Nasha groaned, “That’d take too much time, but it is screwed to the ground.”

“What? Why?” Greige asked.

“I don’t know,” Nasha shrugged, “Mom never told me why.”

“And you don’t think that maybe that might be a reason to not get rid of it?” Larima asked.

“It’s been in the house too long, besides, my mom’s got that stupid shrine over there for dad, she doesn’t need this.”

“I’m not participating.” Larima grumbled, “I’m going home.”

Garnet grabbed her arm, “Don’t tell dad I took his screwdriver.”

“You brought it here?” she looked back at Nasha, before snapping her attention back to her brother, “You already knew to bring it?”

He shrugged, “Hey, don’t get mad at me, Nasha just asked me to bring it, besides, we’re doing auntie Lucy a favor, don’t you think?”

“A favor?” Larima repeated, before turning around, “I’m going.” she stomped out.

Nasha clicked her tongue, “It’s okay, we don’t need her help anyway.”

Garnet squatted next to her, “So, where are the screws?”

It was probably an hour until midnight that her mother actually came home. She, and her friends were reading through her comic book collection in her room when she heard the front door open and close. Her mom was home, and-

A loud scream, and she hurried out of her room to see her mom collapsed onto the ground, her purse beside her, covering her face as she stared into the living room. Her friends came out with her, and stared down at her mom on the floor. She wasn’t moving her attention from one spot in the room, a spot that was now empty.

“I didn’t think we needed it anymore,” Nasha sighed.

Her mom moved her attention to look up at her, tears had formed in her eyes, “You didn’t think we needed it?”

“I’m… gonna go…” Greige muttered as he tiptoed to the front door.

“This was your idea…” Garnet whispered, and quickly followed Greige out.

Nasha groaned, “Traitors…”

“You… didn’t think we needed it?” her mother repeated.

She rolled her eyes, “No, I don’t think we need it. Look around, Mom, it’s just you and I in the house, there’s nobody who needs a rocking chair.”

Her mother slowly got up from her spot on the floor, and wiped her eyes, “You’re right. Nobody needs the rocking chair…” she slowly made her way to where it had been screwed onto the floor, “but… I want it.”

“What?” Nasha repeated, “Mom, it’s just dumb rocking chair-”

Her mother spun around, “A dumb rocking chair? Your father-” she took a deep breath, “Nasha Heartfilia, go and bring back the rocking chair right now.”

“What?” Nasha exclaimed, “You can’t be serious, it’s almost midnight-”

“That’s an order.”

Nasha groaned, “Mom, it’s almost midnight, you’re fine with letting your sixteen year old daughter go out to a scrap dump at midnight?”

Her mom raised a brow, “Oh, so now you want to play the ‘I’m too young to be out at midnight’ card? If you play that card on me, then you can’t go around sneaking out past midnight to meet up with your friends.”

Nasha gulped, her mother knew about her sneaking out at night. “Still, for my mother to encourage-”

“I’m not encouraging you to do anything.” Lucy snapped, “You are going to get your little friends who helped you, Gajeel’s and Gray’s kids, and bring back my husband’s rocking chair. Right now.”

“You can’t be serious, he’s not even your husband anymore, he’s dead! He’s been dead for a while, mom. You’re a widow!” She sighed, “He’s never coming back.”

Her mother glared down at her, “Get his chair back here, right now, Nasha Dragneel Heartfilia. Right now.”

Her mother was using her general voice. “Mom, keeping the rocking chair won’t bring that man back.”

“Go get it.”

“I’m only sixteen, you’re sending me out at midnight, and I was only doing this to help you-”

“Help me?” her mom repeated, her stern voice wavering, “you wanted to help me? And… you chose to get rid of your father’s rocking chair on the very day that we’re remembering him?”

Nasha sighed, “Oh please, Mom, it wasn’t even for him, it was for everyone who had died in that war eight years ago. He wasn’t even an active soldier at the time. He left us, and-”

“He…” she sighed, “He died in the war. The memorial was for everyone who died in the war. Stop being so stubborn and bring back your father’s chair.”

Nasha groaned, “Fine, I’ll bring back his stupid chair.” she sighed, “He chose not to be with us, Mom.”

“He was a victim.” Her mother sighed, “Now, go get his chair. Right now.” Her stern commanding voice was back.

Nasha groaned, and stomped to the door, slipping on her shoes, before swinging it open. Now she had to bring back a stupid chair that belonged to someone who couldn’t keep their promise. Why did her mom have to care so much about someone who just breaks promises like that? She sighed, and made her way to knock on the doors of her two friends who helped her get rid of that damned rocking chair that greeted her every morning. Her mom was still stuck in the past, what was wrong with her wanting to get her to move on from a man like that?

“Daddy, can you do my hair again?” she exclaimed, pulling on his shirt to get his attention.

He looked down at her, putting the frying pan back down on the stovetop, “You want your hair done, princess?” he asked.

“Yeah! Larima says that her dad does her hair, and I want to have my hair done, too!”

He smiled, and ruffled her hair with his hand, “Then I’ll just have to show Larima’s dad that I can do it even better than he can!”

“Natsu.” her mom’s stern voice, “Don’t push yourself.”

He smiled, and looked up at her, “Don’t be like that, Luce, I can do hair, I’ve seen you do your own hair enough times.”

“Nasha’s hair isn’t like mine, Natsu-”

“Nope,” he smiled, and scooped her in his arm as he stood up, “It’s like mine, isn’t that right, my little dragon?”

“I’ve got Daddy’s hair, Mommy!” she stuck her tongue out at her mom.

In return, her mom sighed, “Fine, I’m heading out again, Natsu.”

His expression dropped as he looked over at her, “Another meeting?”

She gave him a pained expression, “No, we’re going to the trenches.”

“Oh.” He smiled, “Well, good luck! Show them how strong you really are!”

She leaned up to kiss him, and he leaned down to plant a kiss on her, “Thanks, babe.”

“I’ll keep Nasha safe, don’t worry,” he smiled, as she waved good bye.

“Daddy, I want a kiss, too.” Nasha exclaimed, turning his head to face her.

“Oh!” He raised a brow, “you want one, too?” he gave her a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek, “let’s go get the princess’ hair done!” He limped his way to the bathroom with her. She liked it when her mom wasn’t home, because then she could be in her dad’s arms for longer. Her mom always tried to get her out of her dad’s arms, probably because she was jealous.

She slid out of his hold, and climbed up onto the stool in front of the mirror, “Can I have braids, Daddy?”

Her dad was silent for a second as he stared at her in the mirror. He smiled, “Of course!” He leaned down, “Can you help, Daddy, though?”

She looked up at him, “Daddy needs help?”

He pouted, “Don’t tell Mommy…”

“But… then…”

“You’re a big girl, right?” he asked, grabbing the wide tooth comb off the counter, “I’m gonna need a big girl’s help if you want braids.”

Nasha’s eyes sparkled, “Yep! I can help!”

He smiled, as he used the comb to part her hair in the middle, “Can my big girl help Daddy with the hair tie?” he asked.

She nodded, “Yes, I can help!” She exclaimed, “But, Daddy, Larima’s hair looked different in braids.”

He smiled, “I’m not done yet.”

It was hard, and her dad looked frustrated at times, but he put his hand and the half of his other arm up at the end, exclaiming, “Tada! All done!”

Nasha looked in the mirror, turning her head side to side, “Larima’s wasn’t… Larima’s didn’t look like this, though.” She patted the frizz, and loose hairs that stuck out.

Her dad laughed, “Well, Larima just doesn’t know how to do hair with her dad.”

“But Larima’s was smooth.”

Her dad leaned in, pressing his cheek against hers, “but does Larima have me as her dad?”

“No…”

Her dad smirked, “Then how can she have the Dragneel touch to her hair then?”

Nasha looked up at him, “Dragneel?”

He smiled, “Yeah,” he poked her nose, “Isn’t that right, Nasha Dragneel?”

She laughed, their last name wasn’t Dragneel, though. Sometimes, it seemed like her dad forgot that. She turned back to the mirror, “So, this is the Dragneel touch, then?”

Her dad smiled, “Only a Dragneel can achieve an awesome look like this!”

She smiled as she looked up at her dad’s expression in the mirror. He had such a wide smile on his face, that it made her happy just to see him happy. She clambered down from the stool and wrapped her arms around him, “Thank you, Daddy.”

He patted her back, “Of course!” He knelt down, grunting as he did so, sliding out his injured leg away, so that he could look into her eyes, “Now go get dressed so that I can take you to school.”

They lived close to the pre-school, so it wasn’t that long of a walk for her dad. Nobody had to tell her that he shouldn’t be walking far, or much, she hated seeing his face look like he was in pain, and he always had to wear that thing on his leg. Her dad shouldn’t be like that, so she had to make sure she protected him. She pushed open the gate to the pre-school, and greeted her friends, her hair bouncing.

It was common for her to hear people talking about her dad when he dropped her off, but he would just smile at her, and wave, watching in silence as she made her way into the building. Sometimes, her teacher would come out to greet him, and one time, she overheard someone say that they could have picked her up from his house, but in return he would just smile, laugh, and tell them that he could take care of it. She was proud of her dad. He was much stronger than people said he was, however, when she heard people making fun of how he limped, or how he only had one hand, she would get so mad. Her mom would tell her that it’s not okay to get into fights with people, but her mom sometimes yelled at people when she was back home and they were all hanging out together, when people would make fun of her dad, too.

“Did you do your hair yourself, Nasha?” someone asked, pulling on her braids.

She spun around, “No. My daddy did my hair.” she said proudly.

Her classmate laughed, “Your dad did your hair? Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” Nasha replied, with a strong pout.

“Uncle Natsu did your hair?” Larima asked, with her braids pulled back all neatly, showing off her pretty little earrings in her ears.

“Yes.” Nasha replied.

Larima was silent for a few seconds before responding, “It looks great! Did he do braids?”

“Yes. It’s the Dragneel touch!” Nasha exclaimed, “Daddy worked really hard on them!”

Larima smiled, her eyes were telling her something different, but she didn’t say anything more. Instead, her twin exclaimed in a loud voice, “It looks like a rat’s nest!”

“Garnet!” Larima exclaimed.

Nasha crossed her arms, “You just don’t understand. Only Dragneels can pull off the Dragneel touch. That’s what Daddy said.”

“Yeah, I bet!”

Another person butt in, “How’d your dad even do your hair? My mom has to use both hands!”

“Just admit it, you did it!”

“Your dad can’t do your hair!”

“I use both hands to put my hair in a ponytail, there’s no way your dad could do braids.”

“It looks awful.”

“Maybe it looks bad because her dad can’t use both hands!”

“Daddy did my hair.” Nasha exclaimed, “and you guys are just… ice brains… for not understanding how amazing the Dragneel touch is.”

“What’s the Dragneel touch anyway?”

“You’re not a Dragneel, that’s probably why you can’t pull it off!”

“Just tell your mom to do your hair instead.”

Nasha frowned, “I am a Dragneel, too. Daddy said so. You-”

“Did your dad even brush your hair before he tried to braid it?”

Nasha spun to glare at them, “Daddy says that a brush will ruin my hair.”

“You're dad must be an idiot!”

“You have to brush your hair!”

“My dad says that-”

“Well, is your dad a general in the war?” Larima exclaimed.

“No, but-”

“Then what can your dad say?” she placed her hands on Nasha’s shoulders, “Nasha's dad was a general in the war!”

“Psh, who cares, my dad sent money to the war.”

Garnet jumped in, “Are you saying our dad doesn't help in the war? Our dad went to battle today!”

Nasha placed her hands on her braids, “My dad is the best.”

“Your dad can't even run!”

“My dad plays tag with me! Can you dad do that?”

“Can your dad even put you on his shoulders?”

She was silent. She didn't want to make her dad in pain, and he was always limping, but… these kids didn't know how strong her dad was. When she saw him when he came to pick her up at the end of the day, he was smiling. She could see the stares from her classmates as she made her way to the gate.

“Daddy…” she asked, putting her hands up for him to pick her up, “can I ride on your shoulders?”

He knelt down, “Does my little dragon want to fly?”

She nodded. 

He smiled, “Daddy can't fly anymore, baby.”

“That's okay…” she pouted. She could hear her classmates snickering. “But Daddy…” she grabbed his face, “you're still the strongest, right?”

He laughed, “Did you get in a fight with your friends?”

She shook her head, “No.”

“Nasha,” her dad sighed, “it's not good to lie.”

He lied to her mom sometimes, “They said you couldn't have done my hair.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, it was no longer in braids. She wasn't an idiot, she knew why her hair didn't look as neat as Larima’s. Her eyes fell on his other arm, if he had two arms, two hands, then people wouldn't make fun of him all the time. She liked the braids he did for her, but… she took them out because people were making fun of him.

He smiled, “Did you fight them?”

She pouted, “Mommy would tell me not to…”

He scooped her in his arm as he stood back up, she heard the thing on his leg creak as he did so, “Should we show them?”

She smiled, “Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“You'll have to hold on tight!”

“General Dragneel!” Someone exclaimed, it was one of her teachers, rushing over to them. 

He turned, as he helped her climb onto his shoulders, “Yes?”

Her teacher put her hands out, “I can help you take Nasha home-”

He pouted, “You think I can't take her home?” He held onto one of her legs as she grabbed his head with her hands.

“No, but, I don't want to put you through unnecessary-”

He stuck her tongue out at her, and Nasha repeated his action, “I can take my own daughter home.”

“Daddy can take his own daughter home.” Nasha repeated.

Sometimes her dad acted childish, but she liked it. Her mom would scold him sometimes, and he would pout like she did when she did something wrong. Her mom said that she would never grow up properly if she was always copying her dad, but she was certain her mom was wrong. Her dad was amazing, even though her classmates made fun of him, he still smiled and laughed and tried to run back home with her on his shoulders. She loved it. She loved the warmth of his hand on her leg, and the secure feeling she felt when he was with her. She wanted to collapse on the rocking chair with him and never get up.

Nasha groaned, as she hauled the rocking chair onto the sidewalk. She should have let Garnet dismantle it, bringing it back home would be easier that way. It was just a chair, what was the big deal? It's not like she threw out her dad's broken stance brace that her mom kept in her room for years.

“I thought you said your mom would be glad it's gone.” Greige muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“I thought so, too…” Nasha muttered, refusing to look him in the eyes, “This would be easier if Garnet joined us.”

“Larima said he was getting a scolding from his dad for digging through his stuff without permission.”

She pouted, staring at the chair that belonged to her dad. What was that even like? “Does your dad get mad at you often?”

Greige shrugged, “Meh, not really, only when I come into the freezer without knocking.”

Nasha nodded, “So… your mom also does the scolding?”

“I mean, not really, she does more annoying doting on me. Talking about how proud she is of my grades and all that. Dad’s pretty quiet, he spends a lot of time ice sculpting in the freezer. Mom says it's because he lost his bickering buddy in the war, but…” he shivered, “they're very active at night.”

“Active at night?”

He nodded, “You should be glad you don't have to hear it. Dad tries to insulate their room with ice, but I'm glad I'm not home right now.”

She pushed the chair across the sidewalk, “Do… do your parents ever have…” she closed her eyes tightly recalling the memory, “nightmares about the war?”

He shrugged, “They did, when I was younger, sure, but now that the city is finally rebuilding itself, and my dad's ice wall has finally melted, it seems like it's just not as common. My mom said that a new neighborhood is finally going to be open beyond the barrier, so I guess they've been focusing on that.”

She looked out to where that ice wall used to look over them, protecting everyone inside this circle from the terrors of the war, it was gone now, and tons of construction sites and plantation sites were popping up beyond the barrier. It gave everyone hope again. It was a better hope than when they had thought the war had ended. Back then, quite a few people, like her parents, got married during the three year stand still, only for it to erupt even worse afterward.

From what she could remember in her earliest years, but mostly from history class, was that most of their country's population, and most of the world's population has dropped significantly. Many cities started putting up barriers, or going to underground bunkers to stay safe from the monsters, as her teachers called them. It had been like a brand new war, even though it was the same war all over again. Since then, there had been a few stand stills lasting a month or two, and those were times she remembered her mother being home the most often. Of course, Greige’s parents were stationed inside of the barrier, because his father was the Defense General, and his mother served in the Defense Corps. Her dad was in the barrier, too, but… she shoved the chair, almost tipping it over.

“What's the big idea?” Greige asked. 

She plopped herself on the ground, “I don't get it. How come all of my friends who had family in the war have both their parents except me?”

Greige shrugged, and plopped on the ground next to her, obviously not attune to comforting people, “Well, it's not like my dad is mentally there all the time, and he's got an ice foot that he had to remake everyday in the summer, and my mom spaces out a lot. Garnet’s dad wears a permanent metal eye patch to cover his lost eye, and his mom lost a lot of her vision, Larima says that she rereads the same page in her books at least three times before flipping the page.”

Nasha sighed, “Yeah, but nobody's dad abandoned them and chose to never come back.”

Greige shrugged, “Seig’s dad went on a long journey two years after the war ended, they say they haven't seen him since.”

“But they still send letters… and auntie Erza meets up with him when she's on business sometimes, too.”

“I'm trying to make you feel better.”

Nasha sighed, “You're not doing a very good job.”

“Look, you're not the only one who lost people in the war. My dad lost his dad, auntie Cana’s dad is barely even there, even if he is physically, and nobody has seen her in literal years, even before the war ended. Uncle Laxus lost his grandpa, and the Strauss family lost their sister, and the brother lost an arm, and the remaining sister is on life support half the time. The war was damaging for everyone, not just you.”

She glared at him, “But all of them were actually fighting in the war. My dad wasn't.”

“They say he stopped it though.”

She groaned and got up, “Let's just finish pushing this damn thing back home.”

Thunder was crashing outside her window, and her bed felt cold, sending shivers up her spine. The heater in her room had broken last night. Her mom wasn't home to fix it, and even though her dad said he could fix it, her mom told her very strictly not to let him touch the heater. She understood why her dad sometimes acted like he still had both hands, even though it had been years since she had seen his other hand. She quietly pushed open the door to her dad's room. When the thunder was bad, she always found herself sneaking back in here.

She shuffled to the side of the bed her dad was on, tripping over his brace and landing on her face. She tried to be quiet, but every time she tried to be quiet she sometimes always made more noise. She peeked up at him as he lay on the bed, his face was distorted, and he was clutching at the blanket. His face was sweating, and she could see his fangs sticking out as he clenched his teeth. She was jealous she had gotten her mom's teeth, and eyes, she wanted those sharp canines and those snake-like pupils that her dad had, but instead, all she got was his unruly hair.

The thunder crashed again, and her dad screamed, it sounded more like a roar, and she had to cover her ears instantly. She opened one eye to look back at her dad as he sat up in bed breathing heavily. It didn't seem like he noticed she was there. She grabbed the glass that was half full of water on the nightstand and shakily handed it to him. His eyes looked scary right now, and his nightcap at two new points that threatened to pierce through the silk.

“Daddy?” She whispered, as he didn't notice she was there. Sometimes it didn't seem like he heard her. She placed the glass on his leg, causing him to look down at her, “Daddy?”

His eyes softened, they looked like they normally did, and the points under his cap disappeared, “I'm sorry, princess, did I scare you?”

She shook her head, and handed him the water, which he took this time, “The storm woke me up…”

He looked out the window as lightning flashed inside, followed by a thunder crash, “Gray's gonna have to fix the wall again…” he muttered almost so quietly she didn't hear it. Her mom said she had her dad’s hearing, but her dad didn't have as good hearing as she did. He probably didn't think she heard him, so she was going to act like she didn't. He reached over and put the now empty glass back onto the nightstand, “Did you want to sleep with Daddy?”

She nodded, eagerly, “Can I?”

He smiled, and patted the place beside him, “Come on up, I can't have my little dragon fretting all alone!”

She smiled, and climbed up onto the bed, carefully maneuvering her way over his injured leg so that she could snuggle next to his healthy side, “Does Daddy get scared, too?” She asked. This was the real reason she came into his room. Every time it thundered in a storm, her dad would sleep the way he just did, like he was scared of something. If her dad protected her while they were awake, then she'd protect her dad while they were asleep.

He smiled and lay down next to her, slipping his arm underneath her and pulled her closer to him, “Does it make me look weak?” He asked.

She shook her head, “Mommy says you're the strongest, so you can't be weak!”

He kissed her forehead, “What about you? Do your nightmares make you weak?”

She shook her head, and wrapped her arms around him, since he couldn't wrap both arms around her, she'd do it for him, “I've got you as my daddy, nightmares can't make me weak!”

“But the thunder makes you scared?” His voice was soft, and tired, and she felt him relaxing under her hug.

She nodded, “It makes me scared.”

He pulled her closer again and kissed the top of her head, “We've got to have each other when we're scared.” he whispered as sleep overtook him.

She nodded. She could never tell him that the thunder made her scared because she was worried about whatever was attacking her dad in his sleep, especially since he probably would ask her again if that made him weak. She didn't care what others said, she didn't care that he couldn't fight with her mom, she liked that he was here and protecting her. He was always the strongest person to her, and so she had to be strong for him, too.

She looked up at him as he slept next to her, holding her close. His face wasn't distorted, and his teeth weren't clenched. He wasn't sweating anymore, his face was still wet though. She grabbed the edge of the sheet and stretched it up to wipe the sweat off of her dad’s face. He smiled in his sleep, and she curled herself deeper into his hug, gently grabbing the half of his right arm, and pulling it over her, as if he was hugging her with both arms. She wrapped her arms around him again, and pressed her cheek to his chest, nuzzling herself under his chin. He pulled her closer when she did so, and she smiled. She loved this feeling of her dad's embrace, and she loved that he was thinking of her instead of whatever woke him up a few minutes ago.

She opened her eyes and let go of the pillow she had wrapped her arms around. Groaning, she stared up at the ceiling as if doing so would get rid of that smiling face that flashed in front of her as if reminding her that his birthday was today. She blinked, trying to clear her mind, but to no avail. After bringing back his damned rocking chair, her mother had made her screw the thing back into the floor where it used to be. She didn’t talk to her mother for a week after that, as if hoping she’d just bury the whole thing, but instead, her mother was continuously apologizing to her deceased father’s picture at the shrine her mom had put together. Gently folding his scarf and placing it back in its place after dusting the whole thing off.

She opened her bedroom door to be greeted by that stupid rocking chair, and her mom dusting off his shrine again. How many times had she done that in the past week? She sighed, and made her way to the kitchen. She needed to eat something to get him off her mind.

“We have the memorial service for him tonight.” Her mom stated as she opened the fridge.

“Didn’t you just go to one?”

“We have your father’s Memory Candle service tonight.” Her mom clarified, her tone more stern than it had been before.

“I’m not going.” Nasha sighed, pouring herself a glass of milk.

“Nasha, it’s your father’s-”

“And?” She took a drink of milk, and placed it back down on the counter as her mother waited for her to continue. “Why’d they have to have the memorial services so close to each other?”

Lucy sighed, “Because that’s how things turned out. Nasha, you may not like your dad anymore, but he’s still your dad.”

She clicked her tongue, and placed the cup in the sink, “He stopped being my dad the second he abandoned me.”

Her mom looked at her as if she had something she wanted to say, but she didn’t utter a word in regards to whatever that was, “He’d appreciate it if you were there.”

She rolled her eyes, “And? I don’t want to be there. I don’t know why you don’t just move on. It’s been years.”

“Not everyone can just ‘move on.’ And some people don’t want to.” She sighed, “So many people lost family and friends in the war, and ‘moving on’ isn’t so easy when you were in the thick of it, if I ever wanted to move on. You learned about the war, you and your friends are children of generals and soldiers who fought in the war." She shook her head, “Regardless, Nasha, respecting your father on his birthday is the right thing to do, and you need to stop being so selfish. I’ve let you skip these rites for years because of your selfishness, and you need to put aside your pride for once and actually understand what happened.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Nasha asked, “it’s not like he’s gonna scold me for not attending, and he’s not gonna scold you either. Look around, Mom, people are finally moving on from the war, the ice wall is gone, buildings are being built, businesses are flourishing again, and people are dreading being drafted in high school. Can’t you see it’s time to move on?”

Her mom was silent for a few seconds before replying, “What do you see your father as, Nasha?”

“What?”

“What do you see your father as?” her mother repeated.

“A no good man who broke his promise, who cared more about the war than his daughter.”

“Is your father just an extension of the war to you?”

“Are you saying he’s not?” Nasha asked, “He didn’t give a crap about me when he decided to abandon me in the shelter.”

Her mom’s face stiffened, and she could tell she was holding back from using her general voice again, “Nasha Heartfilia, you need to stop being selfish and actually take a look at the reality around you.”

“I’ve read the history of the war, Mom, I know what happened-”

“And you choose to view your father in this way?”

“Am I wrong, though?” Nasha asked, “He did abandon me because he cared more about the war. He was always talking about it, dreaming about it, and thinking about it. Even if you two weren’t talking about it when you were home, doesn’t mean it just left his mind. He barely even thought about me at all.”

“Barely thought about you…” her mom repeated, but shook her head instead of replying to her. “I won’t force you to attend, but you really do need to stop being selfish, Nasha. You are his daughter, and he does love you, regardless of what you think now.”

She rolled her eyes, “My friends and I are going to go to uncle Gray’s ice show, so I can’t come-”

“Gray’s ice show isn’t tonight.” Her mom interrupted her, “Gray would never schedule his ice show on the birthday of his late friend. You can’t use an excuse like that to not come, Nasha.”

“Yeah, but the ice show is in a different town and-”

“His ice show isn’t in a different town.”

Nasha groaned, “Even so, my friends and I can’t come, because-”

“The Fullbusters, the Redfoxes, and your aunties Wendy and Erza are all coming over tonight after the rites.” Lucy sighed, “Again, I won’t force you to attend, but you are his daughter.”

Nasha sighed and grabbed her bag off of the couch where she had tossed it last night, “Fine. I’m heading out.”

“Stay safe.” her mom replied as she gently picked up her dad’s picture to dust underneath it.

The door slammed behind her, and she stormed her way down the sidewalk on her way to the bus stop. This was actually ridiculous, why did her mother have to care so much about that no good man? He didn’t keep his promise. He abandoned her. He’d said he’d always be there. He said he’d never leave her. He said he’d always protect her. Then she just had to wake up to find that he was never going to return home again? She had to walk out of the shelter to see his broken, and slightly burned and melted brace sitting in that rocking chair without him? She had to see her mother clutching onto his scarf crying on the couch? Did that look like someone who would always protect her? Who would never leave her? She didn’t think so then, and she doesn't think so now, it didn’t matter how many times she learned the history of the war in school, it wouldn’t change the fact that her father chose to abandon her.

“Whatchya workin’ on?” her dad asked as he leaned over her.

She turned to look at him, before back at the work that she had spread out on the table, “Homework.”

“You’re already getting homework?” he asked, and turned away from her, taking off his glasses to fake a tear, “my little dragon is getting so big.”

“Daddy,” she asked, turning around in her chair.

“Yes?” he asked, giving her his full attention.

“Are you good at math?”

He blinked, and looked away from her again, “I mean… your mom is better at it.”

“So… you can’t help me with this?” she asked, looking down at her homework.

He shrugged, “Depends, I never finished school.”

“Is Daddy stupid?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, before sitting down across from her at the table, “Your mom is just smarter, that’s all. How hard is your math?”

She turned the textbook towards him, “I don’t get it.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “what if you think of it like food?”

“What? That’s not what the teacher said-”

“Well, your teacher is stupid.” he shrugged, and put his glasses back on, “look, if you have seven bowls of pasta, and Daddy has ten bowls of pasta-”

“Why do you get more bowls of pasta?”

“Because Daddy’s bigger.”

She pouted, “I want ten bowls of pasta.”

He shrugged, “Fine, if Daddy has seven bowls of pasta, and you have ten bowls of pasta-”

“What type of pasta?”

He blinked, “Is that important?”

“Yes.”

He thought for a second before nodding, “You’re right. That’s very important. What type of pasta should it be?”

“Rigatoni?”

He shook his head, “Nah, farfalle is better than rigatoni.”

“I don’t like farfalle.”

“Yeah, you do. It’s the bow-tie noodles.”

“Oh.” she snapped her fingers, “then it’s farfalle.”

“What’s the sauce?” he asked, leaning over her textbook.

“Creamy sauce?”

He hummed, “Nah, we eat that too often.”

“Spaghetti?”

“Nah, that always tastes better with spaghetti noodles.”

“Then what sauce?”

“What about mixing the two!”

She nodded, “That sounds good!”

“Oh! Or pesto. Pesto sauce is good with farfalle.”

“I like pesto sauce on bow-tie noodles!”

“Alright! So,” he pushed her textbook between the two of them again, “if you have seven bowls of pesto farfalle pasta, and Daddy has ten-”

“Daddy has seven bowls.”

He nodded, and corrected himself, “If Daddy has seven bowls of pesto farfalle pasta, and you have ten bowls of pesto farfalle pasta, how many bowls of pasta are there?”

She thought for a second, and frowned, “I don’t know.”

He grabbed her pencil, and doodled on a sheet of paper, “if you have ten bowls-” he drew ten circles, “and Daddy has seven bowls-” he drew seven circles, “how many bowls of pasta are there?”

She looked down at his doodle, “You’re an awful draw-er.”

He shrugged, “I’m better at fighting.”

“Mommy says not to fight.”

“Without reason.” her dad finished, “but you’re not fighting the pasta bowls.”

“Seventeen pasta bowls?”

He snapped his fingers, “That’s right!” he exclaimed, “So,” he pointed to the problem in her textbook, “seven plus ten equals…”

“Seventeen?”

“Yep!” he smiled.

She smiled, and accepted her textbook from him again, “Daddy, you are good at math.”

He shook his head, “Not when you’re older.” He leaned onto the table, resting his chin on his arm as he watched her do her homework, “But, maybe when you get to high school, you can help Daddy out.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “I didn’t go to high school.”

“Why not?”

He smiled, “I had to fight.”

“Mommy says fighting is bad.”

He adjusted his position so that he could ruffle her hair, “But Mommy’s fighting right now.”

Nasha frowned, “Why is Mommy fighting?”

“To keep you safe.”

“Is that why you had to fight, too?”

He nodded, “I didn’t get to finish school, because I had to keep you safe.”

She frowned, “Daddy…”

“Yes?”

“But Mommy says that you guys had me when you were twenty-three. Were you twenty-three in high school?”

“Wow, you really got your mom’s brains, didn’t ya?” he smirked, “you didn’t need my help with math at all, did ya?”

“No, I need your help, I still don’t get it.”

“Sure, my smart dragon.”

“Were you twenty-three in high school?”

He smiled, “Nope, I had to fight before you were born.”

She frowned, “You had to protect me before I was born?”

“Yep!”

She turned back to her textbook, and bit at the end of her pencil as she tried to figure out the problem in front of her. Her dad was just silently watching her, with a gentle, caring smile on his face. She looked up at him, “Daddy, how old are you?”

He hummed, “Why don’t you add it?”

“Add it?” She was hoping he’d just tell her, but he’s making her do homework, too.

He nodded, “Mommy’d tell you to add it, too,” he tapped on the equation in her textbook, “If Daddy was twenty-three when you were born, and you are six years old, how old is Daddy?”

She hummed, “I don’t know.”

He smiled, “If Daddy has twenty-three slices of pizza, and you have six slices of pizza, how many slices of pizza are there?”

“Why do you get twenty-three?”

“Because you’re trying to find out Daddy’s age, and Daddy is older than you.” he booped her nose.

“Fine.” She frowned, and began drawing twenty-three circles on the page. “And I have six pizzas…” She looked up at him, “Daddy, are you twenty-nine?”

He ruffled her hair again, “My little princess is so smart! Yes, Daddy’s twenty-nine.”

“Daddy,” she smiled, folding her arms over her notebook, “Since I’m so smart, I’ll teach you when I get to high school.”

His eyes widened, and a huge smile spread across his face, “You will?”

She nodded, “Yep!”

“I’m looking forward to it!” He smiled, and leaned his cheek against his palm.

She frowned, tapping her pencil against her textbook. Why was she remembering a moment that happened ten years ago? Besides, he was such a liar. He told her he wanted her to teach her when she got to high school, and then decided to leave her before she could reach that age. She hung her head, math wasn’t as hard as it had seemed when she was first learning it, but she still hated it. However, it was better than history. Right now, they were going through war stories from the war, from soldiers who had fought in the war. They had been learning a lot about the war in high school.

Prior to high school, she did learn about it, how it started, how long it lasted, and how it ended. She even learned about major battles, and major losses, but now that she was in high school, it was like they were choosing to go into deep detail about the war. Were they ever going to learn anything but the war? She’d like to learn more about ancient history that was only briefly touched on in middle school. Learn about how their country was founded, but, then again, that also related back to the war. She sighed, as that annoying bell echoed from the bell tower, signalling that the hour was over and that they had to head over to the next class, which just so happened to be history.

Her eyes widened as she saw the panoptikon set up at the back of the room. Were they watching something today instead of just reading and discussing interviews and first hand written accounts of the war? This was probably going to be more interesting than listening to her teacher rattle on about how devastating life was for a soldier. Yes, it was a devastating time, obviously. Most of the students here had families who had fought in the war. It was a small class, after all. Many of the classes who were younger than her, like the ones in elementary or earlier had much larger classes, but the classes that were older than hers were even smaller than her own, and a couple grades younger than her were also almost non-existent.

When she had first learned why, it made sense, her parents had hopped onto that ‘trend’ that had become so popular. When they had reached a stand still, and were discussing ending the war, there was a huge period of time that it seemed like the war truly ended. Her dad and mom had gotten married, a few others ended up having kids, and marrying after the war, but her parents were a rarer case for marrying before the end of the war was even confirmed. To be fair, though, the end of the war really did seem to everyone to be something that was going to happen. From what she learned, people were holding victory celebrations, and having huge festivities, with large crowds of people. One of the reasons there were so many deaths and casualties when the enemy struck again a few years after the discussions had begun. Her parents were idiots for getting married so young, and even bigger idiots for having her so young, but, then again, quite a few of her closest friends had parents of similar ages to her own. She sat down at her desk as the teacher began to complain how everyone was staring at the projection machine and dawdling about how they’re going to watch something.

“Due to the memorial service recently, our school got our hands on a very special roll of film that many had thought had been completely lost. I’ll be honest, I haven’t gotten the chance to watch all of it, but it is the first hand account of one of our most famous generals from the war. As you can see behind you,” he gestured to a man clad in uniform, “this is the only chance to watch this film.”

“Ooh!” some of the students exclaimed.

“It’s not an easy watch.”

“Who expected it would be…” she grumbled.

“And it will especially not be easy for some people to watch, so if you do need to step out, feel free to do so.” Why did it seem like he was looking at her when he said that? “Now, Sir, if you wouldn’t mind?”

The curtains were closed, and the screen was pulled down. She heard them rolling the film, and slowly the screen was lit by a face she knew all too well. It didn’t matter if the image was black and white or not, she knew him. He looked almost the exact same as when she had seen him last, and she stood up abruptly as she saw him on the screen. It was as if he was right in front of her again. She wanted to yell at him, to scream at him. To ask him why he didn’t come back, but it was just a film. He wasn’t actually there.

[[“General Dragneel, Are you sure you’re willing to share what you experienced?” someone asked him.

“If it’s too hard, I’ll just leave.” her dad replied.]]

She collapsed back into her seat. She missed it. She missed his voice. It had been eight years since she had last heard him, and she wanted to hear him again. She wanted to hear him talking to her again, and again, and again. She hated him. She absolutely hated him, but she wanted to hear him. Why did she want to hear someone who she hated so much? Why did she want to run into his embrace? Why did she want to feel his arm wrap around her again, feel his lips on her forehead? Why did she want to lean on him for support again?

[[“I’d… I agreed to talk about what happened back there, not how I got there.” her dad replied to whatever question had been asked.

“But the soldiers should know of such tricks the enemy has in order to-”

“She won’t ever succumb to that!” He exclaimed, “They won’t. I made sure they couldn’t pull a trick like that again.”

“Then… Do you mind sharing your story?”

He stared down at his hand again, “Are you ready to hear it?”

“Yes, are you okay to tell it?”

He glanced up at the camera, “Promise you won’t ever share this film with children.” It felt like he was looking directly at her. It hurt. She wanted him to be talking directly to her again.

“What?”

“Don’t let the kids know.”

They were silent again, before replying, “We won’t let children watch this.”]]

Her classmates all turned to look at her as she choked on her own saliva, her jaw was aching, and her vision couldn’t stray from the man who was right there on the screen. Her teacher seemed to motion to the person handling the panoptikon to stop it. Her eyes were burning as his visage froze on the screen as they held the image in place. Why did they have to show this film on her dad’s damned birthday?

“Ms. Heartfilia?” her teacher asked, “Are you alright?”

She nodded, not being able to drag her attention from those slanted eyes on that screen. The eyes that had always been so kind to her. The person who had raised her in her mother’s absence. She gripped at her skirt, staring at him as he flickered on the screen. She had so many things that rushed to her head, things she wanted to tell him, but couldn’t.

“You can step out, if you need to,” her teacher continued.

She shook her head, “No, it’s okay, I can handle this much.”

The teacher seemed hesitant, but motioned to the man to continue the film.

[[“My hands were cuffed together with some sort of metal that I couldn’t melt, and it was making me feel sick. It was an awful smelling dark and gloomy prison.” He touched his ear,  “I could hear screams all around me, and hear people walking, stomping, kicking. I heard pleas to be saved, heard cries of pain, and cries of death. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t get those damned cuffs off of me.

“When the cell opened, and the enemy had come in…” he frowned, “I recalled the number one thing from my training all those years ago, before the war first broke out, before me and Lucy had started dating, back when I was just a private. That if we were ever a prisoner of war, that we were to never speak. Never say anything. To keep quiet. To not say a word. No matter how hard we were provoked. No matter how much we were tortured. I shouldn’t say a single word.

“When they stepped as hard as they could on my leg, I roared in pain. It seemed that they weren’t used to it, covering their ears. I had thought then, that maybe I could get out. However, after discovering my rank, they chose to get information about our plans from me. Choosing to do anything in order to get me to say something. Even if Igneel was dead now, I wasn’t going to let him down. I could never let him down. I had fought my way to rank up to the position I was in, if I just caved then… then everyone back home would be let down. Lucy, who was fighting, and leading, her own battles would be let down. I couldn’t let Nasha, my little girl, at home who was staying safe behind Gray’s ice wall, down by spilling secrets.”]]

Nasha choked, hearing her father say her name for the first time in forever. The way he said it, the softness in his voice, despite it wavering and choking up as he spoke of the terrors he went through, and the gentle smile as he added that she was his little girl. Someone he wanted to protect, someone he didn’t want to let down. He was such a liar. He did let her down. He didn’t come back home. He didn’t return. He left her. She hated him for it. She could never forgive him for breaking his promise to her. He said he’d come back. He said he’d be right back. He promised not to leave her. She grit her teeth, staring at her father on the screen, her eyes pooling up with tears. This was the worst way to hear about what her dad had gone through. She didn’t hear about it from her mom, she didn’t hear about it from her dad when he was alive, even though she witnessed his nightmares every time it stormed. She witnessed his roars at night. Why’d he agree to this? Why’d he do this? She wanted to grab him and shake him, asking him why he chose to let what he had gone through be revealed to her in a way like this, instead of face to face by him.

[[“They wanted to pry as much information out of me as they could.” He rubbed his neck, the way he would when she would ask him something sensitive when she was younger. They way he seemed to hide something, like his nightmares. “No. There were too many precious lives hanging on my back. They must have known that dragons could last longer without eating than other races… so they chose to starve me for longer. They kept telling me that they’d let me eat if I told them anything, if I opened my mouth. I swore my mouth was stuck shut from how tightly I kept it closed.” He gulped, “I think they ended up starving me for two weeks before they realized it wouldn’t be enough… and…” he reached back, touching his his right shoulder blade with his left hand, “they moved to physical torture.”

“You don’t have to continue-” the interviewer stated.

“It’s okay.” Natsu replied, shaking his head, “I can handle this much.”]]

He repeated the same exact words she had said only a few minutes ago, and she realized that she couldn’t handle this much. She abruptly stood from her seat, and rushed out the door, closing it quickly behind her, and sliding down against it. She hated it. She hated him. Why did he have to sound so vulnerable there? Why did he have to sound like he was breaking down? Why was she reminded of memories so deeply buried from her earliest years of the very things he lost and what he was about to talk about in that interview. Her memories of him with his wings was blurry, barely even there. Her memories of him holding her with both arms was practically gone. But she knew he had them at one point. She knew he had wings before. She knew he had two arms before. She knew he used to be able to run faster than any of the other dragon race before. Even if she couldn’t remember it all.

She felt her tears pouring down her cheeks as she craved his touch. She craved his warmth. She shouldn’t want something from someone who abandoned her when she was his ‘little girl.’ She couldn’t want something from someone like that. She had to be strong. Stronger than he ever was. She had to prove that she was capable of more than he was. That she wasn’t going to abandon people like he did. He said he was protecting her, but in the end, he isn’t protecting her anymore. What happened to the definition of ‘always’ because she thought it meant he’d never leave her. She groaned, and slid back open the door, only to see side by side of what he used to look like, and what he looked like after he came back. She felt like throwing up. She had seen photos from the damage of the war before, and she lived with someone who had permanent proof of the damages of war, but there was something else in seeing these shots of how beautiful his wings used to be, how strong his arms and legs once were, how bright his smile was, and in stark contrast the bloody images that were taken at what seemed like almost immediately after he returned.

She closed the door again, keeping herself outside of the room. That gorgeous smile, with those teeth that she envied, so wide and bright, just like how he used to look at her, but with the beautiful wings that she couldn’t remember properly, and never inherited. Those strong arms that she knew held her with the most gentle embraces that she could no longer feel anymore. That contrast of what he once was broke her apart. The way the dragon race worked was that they could change the size of their wings, so that they didn’t become a hindrance to others, but… those pictures of her father with those dazzling wings ripped from their place on his back was devastating to see. His back was bloody, and the only things that remained were nubs of what used to be. How twisted and broken his leg looked, bruised and gory, proof that limbs were never supposed to bend the way his leg did in those images. Her memories flashed to that stupid brace that was broken and melted, and how he was always wearing it, and was scolded by her mom when she caught him without it. How she used to help her dad put it on when he was experiencing phantom pains on his arm. His arm, one that used to be so strong, and caring, was reduced to less than half of what it used to be and covered in boils as if it had rotted away in acid. Most of his arm had already been gone, but they had to cut his arm down even more. Why did they document this damage that her strong father had gone through? Even if she hated him, he was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be protective. Why were they ruining everything she viewed him as? She hated him so much she didn’t want to pity him like this. Seeing pictures of him like that was making her feel sick.

She missed him, she realized. Tears flooded out of her eyes again as it became even more obvious to her that he was never going to fulfill his promise to stay with her forever. She knew, and had known for years, but now, on his freaking birthday, she recalled how much she wanted his hugs, wanted his kisses, wanted to hear his voice, wanted to see his eyes, and wanted to ruffle his hair like he had done to her. She wanted to show him just how much she had grown. She wanted to show him how far she had studied. She wanted to let him know she made it to high school, achieved something he never did, something he wanted her to achieve. Her throat ached as she balanced her emotions of longing and hatred. As much as she missed him, she hated him. He left her. Forever. He was never going to return, and he betrayed her. He was an awful man, she told herself, and that whatever he had gone through, whatever he said wasn’t going to change the truth that he broke a promise that was so very important to her.

Her heart was pounding as she waited impatiently by the front door. Miss Juvia had been constantly pulling her away, trying to get her to be with the other kids who were brought over to her house, but she didn’t want to go over there. She was waiting for someone extremely important, and her mom said she was going to get him. She hadn’t seen him in so long, she wanted to see him again. The automotive pulled up to the door, and she gasped as she saw the moonlight reflect off of it from the window. She hurriedly tried to open the door, but she was just a little too short to reach the handle. Miss Juvia was the only one left. She saw automotive after automotive come and pick up the other kids, but none of them were the people she was waiting for.

Miss Juvia pulled her away from the door again, as it opened. Her mom came inside and hurriedly started moving pillows around on the couch, muttering something about moving the rocking chair from her bedroom to the living room. Her mom was frantic, and other than a light kiss on her forehead to greet her, she didn’t say much, but instead hurried back outside. Her eyes were red. She didn’t like it when her mom’s eyes were red. She waddled over to the door again, only to be scooped up again by Miss Juvia.

The door opened again, and she wiggled out of the arms that held her, rushing over to the person she so desperately missed. She hadn’t seen him in so long, and he was finally back where he belonged. Her little feet weren’t fast enough, though, and she was soon scooped up in a rush of water that wasn’t getting her wet, and placed back in Miss Juvia’s arms. Her mom was helping him walk over to the couch. He… looked different. But that was her Daddy, and nothing anyone could say would change that. It didn’t matter if he didn’t look the way he used to, he was hers.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, wiggling out of Miss Juvia’s arms again, and rushing over to the couch where her mom was helping him sit down, gently guiding him to lay against the couch.

“This doesn’t hurt, right? We don’t have super soft pillows and-”

“It’s fine.” her dad replied to her mom, and he looked over to her, giving her a big smile.

She grabbed the edge of the couch, lifting up her hands to him for him to lift her up. His eyes widened, and then he reached one arm down and tried to haul her up to him. Instead, her mom lifted her up, and placed her on his lap, ever so gently, muttering the words, “Careful, Daddy’s hurt.”

“Daddy!” She exclaimed, and hurriedly wrapped her arms around him, earning a grunt from her dad in return, before one arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. His face nuzzled next to her own, and she felt something wet on her cheek. Was her dad crying?

“Babe, are you sure you want to be on the couch? Our bed is much more comfortable, and-”

“Lucy…” Miss Juvia interrupted her mom.

“I’m so sorry, baby!” her dad cried into her shoulder.

Why was her dad crying? She slowly started patting his back, “It’s okay, Daddy.” She looked down at the area she was patting, did her dad make his wings really small? He was still crying, she patted his back some more, “It’s okay, Daddy.” She pushed back from him, he wasn’t holding her with both arms, still, like she was. Did he not miss her as much as she missed him?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as she wiped the tears from his face, “Daddy… Daddy can’t do a lot of things anymore.”

“Nasha-” her mom whispered, sitting down next to her dad, Miss Juvia was gone, now.

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long, baby,” her dad continued.

“Daddy, stop crying, why are you crying?” she muttered, wiping the tears that just continued to fall out of his eyes.

“Daddy’s in pain, baby,” her mom answered, pushing her dad’s hair, that had gotten longer since she last saw him, behind his ear.

“Daddy?” she asked, noticing how his ear didn’t look the way it used to, “do you want me to kiss it?”

He smiled, “Do you want to kiss Daddy’s owies?”

Her small hand reached up to touch his ear, what happened to it? She looked back up to his face, tears were trying to fall out of his eyes again. She looked down to the arm that held her, and over to his other arm. Her eyes went wide and she looked back up to her dad’s face, “Daddy…”

“Yes?”

She tried to unwrap his arm, “is…”

“Nasha, baby, you can’t touch that.” Her mom’s voice was harsh.

“It’s okay, Luce,” her dad replied, “Nasha,” he began, earning her attention back to him, “Daddy’s different, isn’t he?”

Tears formed in her eyes as she finished pulling the white wrapping off of her dad’s arm. She didn’t like that he was hiding things from her, he… She stared down at his arm as the white wrapping fell to her lap. She looked back up to her dad, and shook her head slowly, “I can kiss it and make it better.”

“Yeah?” he asked, and kissed her forehead, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Where’d it go?” she asked, looking back to his arm.

He shrugged, “It’s playing hide and seek.”

“Tell it to stop.”

“It doesn’t want to.”

“I want it to come back.”

“It can’t.”

“No. Bring it back, Daddy!”

He smiled, and tears formed in his eyes again, she looked over to her mom who was also crying now, too. She shook her head back and forth, “Mommy, where is it? Where’s Daddy’s arm?”

Her mom smiled through her tears, and lifted her off of her dad, moving her to her own lap, “Daddy’s hurt.”

She looked over to her dad from her mom’s lap. His leg was all covered in that white wrapping, too, and it looked thicker than usual. There were metal bands on it. His ear looked different, he didn’t have his arm anymore. He couldn’t hug her, his leg was hurt, his ear was hurt. A lot of her dad was hurt. She didn’t like that. Her dad can’t be hurt. She reached over to him, but her mom held her in place.

“Daddy…” she whispered, she had to make her dad feel better. Her eyes widened, her dad liked to take her up in the sky. Her dad liked it when she cleaned his wings for him. She smiled, “Daddy, can I clean your wings?”

Her dad’s eyes widened and filled with tears again, he slowly shook his head, a wide smile still on his face, “Daddy doesn’t have his wings anymore.”

“No.” she exclaimed, and pushed herself out of her mom’s arms, and crawled back over to her dad, “They’re right here!”

He flinched on her touch, her dad was never like that. He leaned forward a bit as her mom protested, telling him to stop. Her mom’s voice was wavering, her mom was crying. She looked at the empty space behind her dad. “Daddy lost his wings.” he whispered, gently, and carefully, as if what he lost was hers and not his.

“No.” she exclaimed, pulling at his shirt, “take them out! I want to clean them for Daddy!”

He shook his head, “Daddy doesn’t have them.”

She pulled at his shirt again, “Daddy has to have them.”

He gave her a soft smile and shook his head, slowly lifting up the back of his shirt with his one hand to show that his wings weren’t hiding, they weren’t there. She wanted to cry. What happened to her dad? The tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her dad’s arm pulled her closer to him, “I’m sorry, baby, Daddy can’t fly anymore.”

She grabbed his arm, “When are they coming back?”

He shook his head, “They're not coming back.”

“I want them to come back.”

He kissed her cheek, his eyes were still wet, “I want them to come back, too.”

“I want you to come back…” she muttered, curling her knees into her chest as she sat on the back porch of her home. It was a cry fest inside, Auntie Erza was comforting her mom, and the others were all trying to say uplifting things but tears were choking them up. They were all idiots for missing him. She was an idiot for missing him. The sky was dark, and what she had seen in class today was flashing through her mind like a nightmare that won't go away. Greige, Seig, and the Redfox twins were inside comforting their parents, so she didn't have anyone to talk to. Nobody except herself and the imagination of her dumb backstabbing father.

She looked up to the sky, staring at the stars. During the war, a view like this was always hindered by storms or that ice wall. Her dad didn't get to see a view like this. She groaned, why was she thinking about him like that? He betrayed her. She sighed, and got up from the porch. She was going to let out her frustrations at him again. She found herself doing this every year since she was allowed to go outside by herself, since the war ended. The columbarium wasn't that far away, and she was tired of seeing all of his stuff cluttering her home. It was nice to be in a clean space where she could just yell at him, quietly, to her heart's content. Her mom was busy trying to maintain her composure inside, and didn't notice her slipping away, again.

The building was unlocked, per usual, and she quietly made her way over to the aisle of remains that her lying father was in. She stared down at his picture, that sat beside his urn, with his full name engraved on it for all to see. He was in a different area of the columbarium than others. An area designated for “fallen war heroes” despite him not even having been a soldier when he died. Her eyes slid over from the picture of him in his general uniform to a family portrait of their whole family. It was before the war had picked up again, because her dad had both arms. One wrapping around her mom, and the other hoisting her small body up on his hip. Of course, there was a picture of her and her dad and a picture from his wedding day with her mom, but the biggest picture was him in uniform. 

“You're a liar.” She muttered, “a big fat liar. You're an idiot, too. You can't promise me that you'll stay with me and then sacrifice yourself like that. I hate you. I hate you so much. What kind of dad leaves the daughter he's supposed to protect forever? You're awful. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.” She pressed her forehead against the glass, “so…” tears threatened to fall, “why do I miss you?”

She slammed a fist against the glass, gentle enough to not break it, but hard enough for it to rattle. One of the pictures inside fell over, causing her attention to look at the pictures that were still standing. The picture of him fell over, and her eyes landed on his smiling face in the picture he was in with her. The dad she knew, the dad she remembered. Always happy. He was always happy, he apologized to her when he wasn’t. She gritted her teeth, as she looked at her innocent face looking into his eyes as she attempted to copy his expression. She remembered that day so clearly. He was spinning her around as she wore a dress with fake wings on the back of it. He was so loving, so caring, acting like her knight, her dragon knight. She had a wild imagination, imagining that she was the dragon princess, and she needed her dragon knight to protect her in her tower. Her father happily agreed to her ridiculous story, and allowed her to do his hair to match her image of a dragon. Putting two tufts of his hair in hair ties to look like horns on his head, and giving him some of her dress up wings because he had lost his. That was one of the days that her mother had been home from the war. Because she was a general, she wasn’t always on the front lines, and came home every once in a while. She must have taken a picture of the two of them while he was dancing with her. She dropped her head to stare at her feet.

“If… if you were never going to fulfill that promise…” she closed her eyes, picturing his smiling face, “then why did you always cater to my needs? Why did you let me dress you up so ridiculously? Why did you let me knot your hair? Why did you let me destroy Mom’s makeup on your face? You’re awful. You said you’d be with me forever, but where are you? I…” she opened her eyes staring down at her feet, imagining that her fist was clenching her father’s shirt, that his feet were where the base of the aisle was, and not the marble, “I want to be that little girl again… Can’t… Can’t you let me be that little girl at least one more time?” Her imagination wasn’t imaginative enough for him to say anything, let alone to keep his image in her view. She looked back up to the glass, his name on his urn glaringly obvious why he wasn’t with her right now. “You’re awful. I hate you so much. I hate that you left me. I hate that you broke your promise. I hate you. I should have never trusted you, never believed anything you said!” Her eyes slid over to the wedding picture with her mom. His wings were spread so wide as he held her in his arms, a bright smile on each of their faces as they embraced the one they loved, thinking that the war was over. “I… I’m glad you lost your wings.” she choked as the words came out of her mouth, “An awful man like you didn’t deserve them, anyway.” Tears were falling out of her eyes, “It was karma for what you were going to do to me.”

She closed her eyes, turning away from him as the image of his crying face flashed in her mind, his crying face repeating that he was sorry, and that he couldn’t fly anymore. A smile that was forced to try to make her not cry, the gentle eyes that hung onto every nonsensical word she said as if it was the most important thing in the world. The tears that continued to fall as she rambled about how he needed to have his wings. The gentle shaking of his head as he apologized that he didn’t have them, that they would never come back. She looked back at him, and pulled the key out of her pocket, unlocking the space his urn was in, and gently lifting his picture back up, before closing and locking it again, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me… but… maybe… maybe if you weren’t planning on abandoning me like that, you wouldn’t have lost them.” She gritted her teeth as she looked at those eyes staring back at her, “I still hate you. You can’t make me not hate you…” she groaned, “I… I wish you weren’t my father. If you weren’t my father, maybe I’d still have one. I…” she felt her tears falling again, “I… maybe… maybe if you weren’t my father… I… I wouldn’t hurt this much in missing you.” Her fingers gripped at her skirt, “I hate you…” Her vision blurred as the tears cascaded down her cheeks, “I seriously hate you…” Her knuckles turned red as she tried to blink the tears away, her eyes burned, “I seriously, seriously hate you…” She lifted her head to try and make out that blurry name on the urn in front of her, “I… really… seriously… hate…” she dropped her head and wiped the tears out of her eyes, this was all because of that stupid video she had watched in class, his voice she missed, his smile she missed, his hugs she missed, his care she missed, his love she missed, his eyes she missed, his comfort she missed, “... I really… seriously… hate… I hate… I hate… that I miss you.”

She couldn’t stop them, the tears just kept falling from her eyes. She shouldn’t be crying this much because of him, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her throat burned, as she stared at those pictures, the name and date engraved on the urn, and the flowers in the corner that told her somebody had visited him before she did. Her heart ached, and her eyes were burning, and yet she couldn’t move her hands to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing. Why did she miss this man so much? He was only a part of her life for half of it, and she couldn’t even properly remember most of that time.

As her body shook with her whimpers, a comforting arm found itself on her shoulders, and at first she thought he had come back for her, as ridiculous as that sounded, but instead, she was pulled into an embrace, and she found herself inhaling the fabric softener that her mother used. With a comforting arm embracing her back, a soothing hand combed through her hair, and a cheek pressed against the top of her head. Why was she here? When did she get here? Did she follow her here? Did she think that she missed him?

“I hate him.” she choked out.

Her mother nodded against her head, but didn’t say anything. She was just physically there for her. Physically there when she wanted the man who betrayed her to show his dumb face again, just one more time. She felt the tears falling out of her eyes again, and she clutched at her mother’s shirt, and bawled her eyes into her chest. Her mom probably thought that she missed him, but she didn’t, she hated him so much. She didn’t know why she was crying, but it wasn’t because she loved this man who left her the way he did. Her mom didn’t ask her why she hated him, she just comforted her, and she knew that she was staring at his picture, she knew her mom was silently crying along with her. Even if she hid it as well as she did, she could hear the soft whimpers her mom released, and she could smell, despite the strong scent of fabric softener, the salt in her mother’s tears.

She wasn't sure how long her mother held her, but eventually after her eyes had run dry, her mother gently lifted her off of her just enough to turn her face up to meet hers, “Yeah, sometimes I hate him, too.” She muttered with eyes redder than her own, “Sometimes he was very selfish.” She combed her fingers through her daughter’s hair. 

She looked away from her mother, “He's the worst.”

Her mother smiled, “But, you know, Nasha, he never wanted to leave you.”

She pushed herself away, and looked back over to her father’s remains, “Then he shouldn't have left.”

Her mother nodded, “I should have stopped him.”

She looked back at her mother, while her eyes were puffy, and her smile present, there was something else in her eyes that she hadn't noticed before. Guilt. Many people blame themselves when someone dies, especially when they out themselves like her dad did. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying more, “Why would it be your fault? He's the one who abandoned us.”

“Yeah,” her mother whispered, “but… I still should've stopped him.”

The way her mother sounded made it seem like what she had learned in school wasn't the full account of what had happened. Why didn't she pester her mother more? Her mother actually did fight in the war, and was there when he sacrificed himself, when he broke his promise. She leaned into her mother, embracing the warmth she gave her, even if it wasn't the same as the warmth from her father. “How… how could you have stopped him?”

Her mother was silent for a few seconds, and she wondered if she said something to piss her off, but right before she was going to apologize, her mother spoke up, “Held him back, the way I used to.” Her eyes were slightly above a whisper, so gentle and careful, as if she had thought about the answer to that question for years. “Let's go home, I'm going to cry another river if we stay much longer.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nasha replied and began making her way out first, only to notice her mom wasn't directly behind her. She slowly made her way back over to that aisle, and found her mother pressing her forehead against the glass. 

“I'm sorry, Natsu,” her mother whispered so softly that nobody could probably hear her unless they had superior hearing like herself. “I'm so sorry. It's my fault, isn't it? Can you… can you forgive me for not stopping you? You know how much Nasha misses you, how much I miss you. I… I shouldn't have let you… I should have told Laxus not to… you… you were in no condition to do what you did. Why… Why couldn't I tell you that we could handle it? Why did I fall back onto you again? I… I'm sorry. It's ridiculous for me to say the same thing all the time, isn't it?” Her mother sighed and lifted her head off the glass, carefully caressing it with her hand as if his face was truly there, “I miss you, babe… I still love you, Natsu.”

Nasha turned around as she heard her mother walking her way. It wasn't her mother's fault. She had read too many times how the war ended, and what her father did. Despite the sound of her mom's voice, none of that could ever be her mother's fault. It was his fault for choosing to do what he did, choosing to leave her and break his promise. The one promise he never kept, and the one promise that he should have kept. No, regardless of what her mom says happened, her dad betrayed her, and won't ever be coming home, ever.

“Nasha!” her dad exclaimed slamming open her door, she jumped and stuffed his scarf underneath her.

“I don't have it!” She cried.

He looked down at what she was sitting on, before coming over to her, “Your mom is coming back today.”

She jumped to her feet, “Really?”

He nodded, “You know what that means?”

“Daddy needs to put on his leg thing.”

He frowned, “Not that, the other thing.”

“Mommy will get mad if you're not wearing it.”

“I'll put it on before she gets here.” He knelt down, and she watched as his face grimaced as he did so, “but… Mommy's coming home, so…”

Her eyes sparkled, “Spa day?”

He nodded, “Spa day!”

She hurried around him to get the supplies from the bathroom. Her and her dad would do mini spa days, but on the days her mom came home, they went all out. At first, her dad would just help Nasha make her mom super comfortable and relaxed, but now they all did the spa day together! She opened the drawer that held all of their spa day supplies. The face masks and the skin care products. The hand and nail care products, too. She pushed them into the living room where her dad had already set up the towels.

“Daddy,” she muttered, earning his attention from adjusting pillows on the couch.

“Yes?”

“I need help with the foot baths.”

“Do you?” He asked, “Where'd we put them last time?”

She didn't actually need help with them, they weren't heavy, but her dad liked it when she asked for help. He was always so eager to help her that she couldn't bring herself to say that she was big enough now that she didn't need his help. She liked to see him smile when he helped her, too. He pulled the tubs for the foot baths out from under the sink, holding all three of them in his arm as he limped his way out of the bathroom. She trotted after him, helping him place them on the towels that they had set up, and putting her foot bath onto the stool between her parents’.

“Daddy, what time is Mommy coming?”

He hummed, tapping his finger on the rim of one of the tubs, “She phoned from the camp saying that she'd be coming back soon…”

She frowned, her dad always forgot to ask the important questions. “Daddy,” she placed her hand on his leg, “Mommy's gonna be mad.”

“Why is she gonna be mad?”

She looked up at him, did he like it when her mom got mad at him? She patted his leg, “You need to put it on.”

His jaw dropped, and he ruffled her hair, “Mommy's not gonna know.”

“I'll tell Mommy.”

He gasped audibly, “You'd betray your dad like that?”

She shrugged, “Are you gonna put it on, Daddy?”

He collapsed on the ground, dramatically, “My own daughter has turned against me!”

She sighed, placing her hands on her hips, “Doctor's orders.” She tried to mimic her mom’s voice.

“But Nasha… Daddy can't wear it for the spa day.”

She shook her head, and began making her way to his room, “You have to at least wear it for when Mommy comes home.”

He laughed. She liked the sound of his laugh, it made her happy. Sometimes her dad didn't act super happy, like when her mom left again, or when he'd wake up in the middle of the night, so she needed to make sure he was happy. He used to take her up in the sky, and fly with her, but ever since he came back a few years ago, he couldn't do that anymore. She used to forget about that more when she hadn't turned five yet, but now she was a bigger girl, and so she remembered more often now. She dragged the brace back into the living room where her dad was organizing things, and placing them neatly on the coffee table.

“Here it is, Daddy,” she announced, placing his brace next to him.

“Just a second, baby,” he muttered, before snapping his fingers, “I forgot to cut up the strawberries.”

“Daddy…” she groaned, as she watched him get up and stumble trying to keep his balance before limping over to the kitchen. He should just put the thing on already, she didn't like it when he acted like that, and sometimes, he even fell over. “Daddy.”

“Yes, princess?” He replied, pulling the strawberries out of the fridge, before closing it with his half arm.

“Aren't you going to put it on?” She made her way into the kitchen as he stumbled again, dropping the carton of strawberries, and catching himself on the counter. “Daddy!”

He smiled at her, and lowered himself to the ground, picking up the strawberries and putting them back into the carton, “Daddy’ll put it on, just a second.”

“No, Daddy, you need to put it on now.” Nasha exclaimed, helping him pick up the strawberries.

“Your mom likes strawberries, and grapes,” he looked up at her, “can you get the grapes while Daddy washes the strawberries?”

She nodded, “I can get the grapes!”

“That's my girl!” He exclaimed, placing the carton on the counter, before hoisting himself up, “Just don't eat too many of them, your mom really likes them.”

“I won't, Daddy!” She replied, opening the fridge to find the grapes. The water ran, and she looked over to see her dad rinsing the strawberries off in the sink.

She put the carton of grapes on the counter, and watched as her dad slowly managed to cut the tops off of the strawberries. She used to ask him if she could do it, because always seemed to struggle, but eventually she just stopped asking, and would watch him instead. She had eaten strawberries without taking the leaves off, and seen her dad eat strawberries that way, too, so she didn't understand why he had to cut them off for her mom. Was her mom picky? She hadn't really thought much about it before, though.

“Daddy,” she asked, folding her arms against the counter to rest her cheek against them as she watched.

“Yes?”

“Why do you have to cut them?”

“‘Cause it's special.”

“But Mommy can just eat them the way we do, can't she?”

He nodded, and looked down at her, “She can, but-”

“Is Mommy picky?”

He laughed and shook his head, “No, cutting up the strawberries just makes Spa Day more special.”

She shrugged, “I don't get it.”

“You don't have to,” he replied, “but your mom thinks it's nice.” He smirked, “and less messy.”

She frowned, “When can I cut the strawberries then?”

He hummed to himself for a second, “When I can trust you with a knife.”

“Daddy,” she sighed, “you use that thing to cut the strawberries, though.”

He nodded, and lifted up the huller in his hand, “and I use this to get the leaves off.”

She frowned again, “That's not a knife though.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “it is a blade though baby, can you get the bowl for the strawberries?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she turned away from him, and opened the cabinet to grab out the large bowl that they used when she helped her dad bake. Her mom was upset when he had told her he started baking, worried he'd hurt himself, especially with the oven. He whined to her a lot in order for her to let him keep doing it, but other than the oven, she would help him all the time with it. She didn't know why her mom was concerned about the oven, though, because she had seen her dad light up the grill in the summer with his bare hands. She placed the bowl on the counter next to her dad, and watched as he started to fill it with sliced strawberries.

“Can you rinse off the grapes?” Her dad asked.

She nodded, and pushed the stool over to the sink, before climbing up onto it with the carton of grapes. She poured the water over them, and watched her dad some more. He was pretty good at this. One time, she had gone to Larima's house, and watched her mom cut strawberries. She used two hands, but her dad only used one. 

“You want to start putting the grapes in the bowl, too?” He asked, sliding the bowl over so that it was between them. 

“Okay!” She exclaimed, and began to pluck the grapes off of their clusters and drop them into the bowl.

The telephone rang as her dad cut up the last strawberry. He wiped his hand on a towel, before limping over to the phone. She gasped, he didn't put his brace back on! She dropped a couple more grapes into the bowl, before climbing down and making her way back into the living room.

“Heartfilia residence,” her dad answered the phone, “Yes sir. Thank you, sir.” He was silent for a few minutes, and she dragged his brace over to him. He gave her a frown as he noticed it, before replying, “But sir, I have my kid and… My apologies, sir. With all due respect, sir, did the Chairwoman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff agree to such a decision? You know I've retired and… Sir, I can't do that.” He sighed, and gave her a soft smile, “I understand, sir. Hopefully it doesn't come to that. I heard the Spirits Corps have made excellent advancements. Yes, sir. I understand, sir. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He hung up the phone, and hung his head.

“Daddy, are you going somewhere?” She asked, the conversation reminded her of some of the conversations her mom had on the phone. She couldn't quite make out what the guy on the other side was saying, but she understood that it wasn't a good thing.

“No, of course not!” He replied, kneeling down, and sliding his injured leg out as he balanced his weight on his other leg.

“Why were they calling, Daddy?”

“They were just scaredy cats.” He replied, and looked back to the kitchen, “Did you finish with the grapes?”

She nodded, “I don't want you to go, Daddy.”

He ruffled her hair, “Don't worry, Daddy's not going anywhere.” He grunted as he stood up, “Now, let's bring that bowl over to the living room.”

She watched as he limped back into the kitchen, and picked up the bowl full of strawberries and grapes, tucking it under his arm as he limped into the living room with it. His face was cold, as if he was thinking about the phone call. She wanted to call the guy back and tell him to leave her dad alone, but she had only ever watched her dad call on the phone, she didn't know how to do it herself.

He placed the bowl on the coffee table, turning it and adjusting it a little before looking pleased with how everything was coming together. He sighed, and limped over to the rocking chair, and collapsed himself into it. He was exhausted, she could tell, he didn't even have the energy to rock himself. She dragged over his brace to him again, and stared at him as his brow furrowed ever so slightly, and his eyes were closed. His chest was heaving and she wondered again why he didn't wear his brace all the time. He didn't get like this when he wore it. She grabbed his leg, and lifted it up onto the ottoman, he didn't seem to notice, or, if he did, he didn't say anything. She lifted up the brace, which was quite heavy, and laid it next to her dad's leg, with all of the straps undone.

He opened his eyes and sat up, jostling what she was doing, “Nasha,” he whispered, and she looked over to him, “Daddy can do this by himself.”

“But… but I want to help Daddy.” She whimpered. Couldn't she help him with something like this? She grabbed his leg before he could move it, “Can't I help, Daddy?”

He leaned forward, “You have helped Daddy,” he looked down at the brace, “and you can help Daddy even more if you get the night caps and headbands.”

He was pushing her away from helping him with this, again. He only let her help him when he was in too much pain, but she was going to listen to him again. She didn't want to make him mad. Her dad didn't get mad at her, but she had seen him get mad at others, and she didn't want him to be mad at her. She let go of his leg and smiled, “Okay!” She got up, and hurried into the bedrooms to get the things they had forgotten.

When she came out, her dad was staring at his leg. It was in the brace, but none of the straps were done, and he didn't seem like he wanted to put them on. She put the night caps and headbands with all of the other things they had decorated the coffee table with, and looked back at her dad. He hung his head, before slowly strapping his leg into the brace. He was moving so slowly it concerned her. Was her dad okay?

She heard the sound of an automotive, and turned to the door, her mom was home. She looked back at her dad who still hadn't strapped half of the straps. She hurried over to him, and grabbed the straps he hadn't gotten to, “Mommy's home, Daddy, she's gonna get mad at you.”

He chuckled, “Do you not want Mommy to be mad at me?”

She shook her head, “I don't want Mommy to be mad at Daddy.”

He kissed her head, allowing her to strap the rest of his leg in, “Sorry I got mad at you, baby.”

He didn't get mad at her. She had seen him when he's mad. He probably thought she thought he was mad at her. She shook her head and smiled back at him, “I'm okay, Daddy.”

He smiled back at her, and kissed her again, as the door opened, and her mom walked in. She gave her dad a hug, before rushing over to her mom. He followed her, as her mom lifted her up into her arms, smothering her with kisses. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes, Mommy!” Nasha exclaimed.

She hugged her tighter, “I missed you, too, little princess!” She made eye contact with her dad, and placed Nasha back on the ground. 

“Welcome back,” he smiled, putting an arm out for a hug.

She obliged, pulling him in, and leaning up just a bit, to smother him in kisses, too. Except, they were all in one spot, right on his lips. “I'm back home, for now.”

“The Secretary of Defense called.”

Her eyes widened, “They did?”

He nodded. 

“Natsu, I really did tell them not to bother you, I-”

He shook his head, still holding her, “Nah, that's not what I'm saying. I heard your troops pushed the forces back some in the east.”

She nodded, giving him a kiss again, “Yeah, but it's too early to claim victory, you never know when…” she trailed off her eyes, focusing on his right arm.

“But for now, you deserve some rest.” Her dad replied, dragging her attention away from his injuries and to the couch in the living room.

She sighed, and gave a smile, “You two don't have to do this every time, you know.”

“I know,” her dad replied, guiding her over to her spot on the couch, “Nasha, can you get the water for the bath?”

Nasha nodded, and hurried back into the bathroom to fill the bucket with warm water and Epsom salt. Her dad was so attentive to her mom when she came home like this. She dragged the bucket of splashing water back into the living room, and looked at her parents. Her dad was in the middle of massaging her mom's feet, and her mom had leaned down to press her forehead against his. She was whispering about how she was sorry, cupping his face in her hand. She pulled away from him, but her fingers lingered on his messed up ear. As if noticing she was there her mom sat back up straight, and her dad waved her over.

She began to haul the bucket over when her dad seemed to remember that he asked her to get it. He got to his feet, and rushed over to grab it from her. Her mom began protesting, saying he shouldn’t be being that rough on his leg, but he ignored her, again. He poured the warm water into two of the three buckets that they were using for the foot bath, and nodded for her to join her mom on the couch. Nasha obliged, but as she soaked her feet in the water, she noticed that her dad wasn’t joining them on the couch and that he didn’t fill his own.

“Daddy…” She drew out his name, but he seemed a bit too focused on her mom.

“Babe…” her mom muttered, nudging his shoulder with her hand.

He looked up, and blinked, and then looked to her after her mom tilted her head in her direction. “Ah, sorry, baby, what is it?”

Her dad was zoning out again. It happened often, so she wasn’t mad at him about it, but it always was worse when her parents talked about her mom’s job, or when they got one of those phone calls. She pouted, it was like they were taking her dad from her, and she didn’t like it.

“Nasha,” her dad muttered, leaning against the coffee table, “Did you want something?”

She shook her head, as she stared at her dad, “Daddy… aren’t you going to join us?”

He smiled, and slowly shook his head, “Not right now.”

“Why not?” her mom asked.

He shrugged, and got up, stretching his arm behind his head, and grabbing his other arm as he did so. He rolled his shoulders before replying, “Somebody has to keep you from getting up.”

“Natsu.” her mom sighed, “You already put everything we need to relax on the table, why can’t you join us?”

“Daddy, the water isn’t cold…”

He smiled, “I know, my little dragon, but I didn’t get everything ready before Mommy came home.”

She pouted, “I’ll tell Mommy.”

He gasped, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Lucy shook her head, “Natsu, if you’re-”

“Mommy should know.”

He bent down and booped her nose, “Mommy doesn’t have to know.”

“I should know.” her mom chimed in.

He looked over to her, smiled, and gave her a kiss on the lips before standing back up straight, “I didn’t get the drinks.”

“Daddy! I can get them!” Nasha exclaimed, as she began to get up, but with her dad’s caring hand on her head, she sat back down.

“I can get them, you’ve already done a lot today. You should spend time with your mom, don’t you miss her?” her dad replied, before limping over to the kitchen.

Her mom leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Daddy didn’t wear his brace again, didn’t he?”

She gasped, how did her mom know? She scooted a bit closer to her mom, “Mommy… do you have super powers?”

Her mom smiled, and shook her head, “Did you help Daddy put on his brace?”

She looked back to her dad before back to her mom, “Mommy… did you see?”

She shook her head again, “I could tell. It’s a mommy secret. Once you’re a mommy you’ll be able to tell.” Her mom looked back at her dad, a soft and concerned smile on her face, before back to her daughter, “Nasha, Daddy is stubborn.”

She nodded.

“So,” she groaned, closing her eyes tightly before sighing and opening them again, “give your Daddy a good whack to the head when he doesn’t wear his brace when I’m gone.”

There seemed to be something else her mom wanted to say, but chose not to. “Mommy…” Nasha whispered, waving for her mom to come closer to her, “Daddy fell today.”

Her mom’s eyes widened momentarily, “He did?”

“No.” Her dad broke into the conversation.

Her mom frowned, “Are you saying my daughter is a liar?”

He pouted, “Are you saying your husband is a liar?”

“Yes.”

He gasped, “Well, fine then, I’ll just keep all the drinks to myself.”

“What drink?”

“Does it matter?”

“It’s lemonade.” Nasha answered, happily, “I helped make it!”

“Oh, you did?” Her mom exclaimed gleefully, and turned her attention back to her dad, “You’re not gonna let me drink what my daughter made?”

He shook his head, “My daughter made it, so I have the right to say no.”

Her mom frowned, “Since when was she just your daughter? Last I checked, you’re not both a mom and a dad.”

He shrugged, “But she obviously looks just like me.”

Lucy frowned, and pressed her cheek against Nasha’s, “What are you talking about, she looks just like me!”

Her parents were being goofballs again. Her dad was a lot more like a dad when her mom wasn’t here, and her mom was more like a mom when her dad wasn’t here, but she loved them both. She liked it when they acted silly, it was better than when they were silent. She pushed her mom from her and decided to end their squabble, “I’m Mommy’s and Daddy’s daughter.”

“Oh?” her mom asked, “So, whose eyes do you have?”

“Mommy’s.”

“Whose ears do you have?”

“Mommy’s.”

“Whose smile do you have?”

“Mommy’s.”

Her mom shrugged, “Sounds like your Mommy’s daughter.”

Her dad sat down on the other side of her, leaving the lemonade she made on the coffee table, “You’re asking the wrong questions, Luce,” he said, and tapped her shoulder, “Whose hair do you have?”

“Daddy’s.”

“Whose nose do you have?”

“Daddy’s.”

Her mom frowned, “But she is more me than you.”

“Bullcrap.”

“Language, honey, she’s still a kid.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re as pale as mozzarella, and she’s obviously not.”

“And?” Lucy replied, “She’s not as tan as you are either.”

Her parents were fighting over her, again. She grabbed her dad’s arm and pulled him to her, whispering in his ear, “I want to be Daddy’s and Mommy’s.”

He turned his head to her, and muttered, “What was that?”

She shook her head, and mimicked her mom, “If you didn’t hear it, you didn’t hear it.”

Her dad hooked his arm around her, and hauled her into his lap, “You know I didn’t hear it, you rascal.”

He was right, she whispered into his bad ear, and very quietly, too. She laughed as he began to tickle her, kicking her wet feet into the air. She heard her mom protesting, but her dad didn’t stop. Her chest began to hurt from laughing so much when he finally stopped being the tickle monster. He leaned down just enough that his hair blocked her mom from her view, “You’re Daddy’s and Mommy’s girl, aren’t you?”

She laughed, as she stared up at his smile. He was right, she was Mommy’s and Daddy’s, but sometimes she really did wish that she looked more like her dad. She wanted to have eyes like his, and teeth like his, and ears like his, and even wings, even though he didn’t have those anymore. Her smile dropped as she recalled in a blurry memory what her dad looked like. She frowned, sometimes she didn’t want to have a dad like him. She did love him, and he loved her so much, but sometimes she wished that he had both arms. Sometimes she wished that he could take her up in the sky like Larima’s dad could, but he couldn’t. Sometimes she wished that he could wrap both arms around her, and not fall over when pulling strawberries out of the fridge. She loved him, she did, but he wasn’t like her friends’ dad, even though they had similar features.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, and she wiggled out of his embrace, and clambered over to her mom. She sat down on her mom’s lap, seeking comfort.

She knew she shouldn’t think of her dad like that, and her friends’ dad wasn’t home all that often like her mom wasn’t, but she was jealous. She looked up to her mom, noticing the concern on her mom’s face. She looked away, refusing to look at her dad, she didn’t want to know what he looked like right now.

“Nasha,” her mom’s soothing voice whispered, “what did Daddy do?”

“Nothing.”

Her mom’s comforting hands started rubbing her back, “what did you do, then?”

She looked up at her mom, and then back to her dad, before burying her face in her mom’s chest, “Daddy’ll hear me.”

“Want me to tell Daddy to step away?”

She nodded.

There was a long silence, as she heard her dad’s brace squeak as he limped away. Her mom started to rub her back, waiting in silence for her to say anything. She gripped her mom’s shirt as she felt bad for wishing her dad was different. She looked up to her mom, before looking around the room to see if her dad was still in there. She dropped her head, pressing her forehead against her mom’s chest.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Daddy won’t like me.”

“Why won’t Daddy like you?”

“I want Daddy to have two arms.”

“I want Daddy to have two arms, too.” her mom replied.

She looked up to her mom, “Does Daddy still like you?”

“Of course Daddy still likes me.” her mom answered, “Why do you want Daddy to have two arms?”

“Larima’s daddy has two arms, and wings.”

“He does.” her mom confirmed.

“Sieg’s daddy has two arms.”

“Yes, he does.”

“Greige’s daddy has two arms.”

“Yes, Greige’s daddy does have two arms.”

“So… why does my daddy only have one arm?” Nasha grumbled. “Daddy can’t cut strawberries with two hands like Larima’s mommy can. Daddy can’t braid my hair like Larima’s mommy and daddy can. Daddy can’t throw me in the air like Greige’s daddy does. I want Daddy to have two arms.”

Her mom’s hand was comforting as it rubbed her back, “But Daddy still cut up the strawberries. Daddy still braids your hair. Daddy still does a lot of fun things with you, doesn’t he?”

She frowned, “Yeah, but the strawberries aren’t as pretty as when Larima’s mom cuts them, and he takes longer. My hair isn’t as pretty as Larima’s hair when it’s braided. And when Greige’s daddy threw me in the air, too, it was fun.”

Her mom stopped rubbing her back, and lifted her face up to meet hers, “Your daddy is trying, too.”

“But Mommy said she wishes Daddy had two arms, too.”

Her mom nodded, “I do, yes, cause Daddy used to have two arms. But Nasha, everybody is different. Mommy never had wings, and you don't have wings. Greige has pointy ears, but you don't have pointy ears.”

“But everybody has two arms.”

“Some people don't have two arms, though.”

“I haven't seen people without an arm, except Daddy.”

Lucy frowned at her, “Nasha, do you hate Daddy?”

She shook her head. 

“Then do you love Daddy?”

“Yes, I love Daddy.”

“Then did it matter if Daddy had two arms?”

“But I want him to.”

“Nasha,” her mom's voice was stern, “Daddy tries his best even though he only has one arm. It's not very nice to treat people differently just because they look different, I thought you knew better than this, princess.”

Nasha pouted, “But Daddy wouldn’t be hurt if he had two arms.”

Her mom’s expression softened, and she kissed her forehead, “That’s why I’d want Daddy to have both his arms again, but Daddy’s arm doesn’t hurt anymore.”

She looked up at her mom. Her mom was wrong. Her dad’s arm did hurt him, still. He also woke up roaring some nights, and sweating a lot, too. Her mom didn’t know, and for some reason, she didn’t want to tell her mom. She pressed her forehead against her mom’s chest. She should probably tell her mom that her dad was still in pain, but she didn’t want to. If she said that, then her mom would start fussing over her dad, and she wouldn’t be able to do everything with him that she does anymore.

“You done talking?” her dad asked, coming back into the room.

“Yeah,” her mom replied, “What’s that?”

She looked over, and noticed a box in her dad’s arm. He shrugged in response, and placed the box down beside the coffee table, before sitting down on the ground, “Don’t know, Gray handed it to me when I ran into him.”

“Is it important?”

“I’d assume,” her dad shrugged, as he began to unseal the box to open it.

“It’s not related to the wall is it?”

“Don’t know,” her dad replied, “By the way, aren’t your baths cold now?”

“Oh,” her mom muttered, and took her feet out of the foot bath, “I guess so. What’s next for spa day, Nasha?”

She looked up at her mom, and back down at her dad as he opened the box, “Face masks.”

“Oh?”

“I’m gonna do Daddy’s face mask!” she exclaimed, and climbed off of her mom’s lap, and grabbed the tub that had the face mask mixture in it.

“You’re gonna do mine, and not Mommy’s?” her dad asked, with a smile on his face.

“Yep!” she exclaimed, twisting open the tub.

He pushed the box aside, and gave her his full attention, “I feel so special!”

She smiled, and pushed one of the headbands onto his head to pull back his bangs.

She rolled over in her bed and stared at the empty wall. This was annoying. After overhearing her mom and the whole interview video thing at school, she was remembering that man again. She kicked her legs as she tried to get herself to go to sleep, but the thoughts and memories weren’t leaving her head. She groaned, and sat up. Maybe all she needed was a glass of warm water. The only issue though, was that she didn’t want to run into her mother if she slipped out of her room right now. She had been avoiding her as much as possible since her dad’s birthday, leaving earlier than her mom would wake up on the weekdays and come back late under the guise of studying so as to not alarm her mom.

She pushed open her door and looked around the dark house. For some reason, it reminded her of when she had come into the living room to find her mom crying her eyes out all those years ago. She tip-toed her way into the kitchen, and silently grabbed a glass to fill with warm water.

“Can’t sleep?” her mother asked, startling her.

She turned around, “No, I can’t.”

Her mom sighed, and collapsed back onto the couch where she had appeared from. Part of her wanted to know why her mom couldn’t sleep, but the other part of her didn’t want to get involved in that drama. There was a likely chance that it had something to do with her dad, and sometimes, she just wished that her mom would just move on already. There were other people who had lost someone in the war and had moved on, and started dating other people. She was one of the few people who didn’t. There was a time where she had intended to introduce someone she had met to her mom. He seemed like a nice guy, and she even convinced her mom to go on a date with him. He worked at the local library, and her mom loved to read, he seemed like the perfect match. However, her mom only went on that one date, never told her what had happened on it, and clutched her dad’s scarf in her arms as she fell asleep that night.

On one hand, she understood that there were some people who just couldn’t move on when they lost someone, and on the other hand she just wanted her mom to part from the man who had left them all those years ago. He wasn’t a good person if he broke promises like that. He couldn’t be a good person if he broke important promises. She groaned, and leaned over the couch to stare at her mom who lay there, holding the pillow in her arms. She was staring silently at the photos on the wall, arms wrapping around the pillow. There were quite a few times that she found her mom zoning out like now ever since the war ended. As she got older, she realized that part of it was from missing her father, and part of it was because the war lasted so long.

Her mom did pick up writing as a hobby, and even ended up getting a book published, but it was very obvious in the book that despite it being a historical fiction, there was so much inspiration from the actual war that it wasn’t even placed in the historical fiction section of libraries and book stores. She did read the book, and it felt more like an autobiography, but not using her own name, or her father’s name, for that matter. One thing though, that didn’t happen in her book was her father losing his limbs. In fact, she had written him as someone who was just as human as she was, instead of someone of dragon-kin of which he was.

Sometimes, she was jealous of Garnet and Larima who got more of those dragon-kin traits from their dad. Maybe her mother’s genes were just that much stronger, or maybe the faes had genes that weren’t as strong as dragon-kin genes, which was interesting, because there were far less of the dragon-kin race than there were of faes. Then again, maybe their races just mixed better together than her mother and father. While Garnet and Larima didn’t get wings like their father, they did get other physical traits like the eyes or teeth. If her dad was going to leave her the way he did, the least he could have done was give her some of those genes. Ever since she was little, she was jealous of his eyes and ears. His sharp fangs did add some extra emphasis to when he was angry, and, honestly, sometimes made him look like a cat.

Her dad did have a cat, though, of some sort. Her mom ended up bringing him home from the war after everything had officially wrapped up. They weren’t really a typical house cat, though. Garnet and Larima had one at their place. These cats were large cats, with wings. Most of them had died in the war, but there were a few that survived. They were war companions, and with the exception of her father’s companion, they fought in the dragon corps where her father had been a general. Most of the dragon corps and their companions had passed in the war. They fought on the front lines more so than any of the other troops. Her mother’s battalion would fight on the front lines further into the war, when troops were depleting, but for the most part, hers were more of support than heavy hitters.

Her father’s companion was an Aq Bar and Pterofelid mix, but Garnet’s and Larima’s dad’s was just a black Aq Bar. Unfortunately, many of these great cats were heavily injured, especially their wings. Happy, her father’s companion, had his wings heavily injured, and her mom said she only saw him fly so desperately and clumsily once after they were told he’d never fly again. When her father had been forcefully retired when she was just three, her mom said that Happy had tried to join them, but instead, would fight alongside her in the war. Having a beast like that with her, a beast that used to be alongside her father, would make the enemies cower in fear once she was on the front lines. Her mom told her that it was like her dad was right beside her on the battlefield. Regardless, Happy had his own place in the backyard where he spent most of his time. He was getting older, and his beautiful blue coat was looking paler and paler each time she saw him. He had a lot of white hairs around his snout and eyes now, too. Her mom said it was stress, but the fact that her father’s scarf was usually in his hut outside told her that he missed her father, too. It was ridiculous, if she were honest, how could they long this much for someone who left them so abruptly like that?

She poked her mother’s cheek, earning her attention, “Why can’t you sleep?” She knew she didn’t have to ask, her mother was probably recounting the battles she fought in, her father, or was just simply zoning out from lack of things to do. She had been in the war for so long, the majority of her life, that these past eight years without war were something that she still couldn’t get used to. Sometimes it seemed like her mom wanted the war to continue.

“No reason,” her mom replied, pulling her knees up to her chest, allowing room on the couch for her daughter to sit beside her.

Her mom didn’t talk much about the war, mainly only a few things here and there, and usually always related to her father. “I can’t sleep, either.”

Her mom nodded, and continued to stare at the pictures on the wall, “Why can’t you sleep?”

She shrugged, “Too many thoughts in my head.”

She mumbled a response, but she didn’t understand what she said. Instead, what she did hear was her mom whispering in a voice so soft, and tender, and quiet, “He would’ve been so happy right now, wouldn’t he?”

She knew it. Her mother was thinking about her dad. She rolled her eyes and sat down on the couch, “Doesn’t matter, though, does it?”

Her mom was silent, for a few minutes, before slowly sitting up, putting the pillow down beside her, “I still wish he could’ve seen how well you’ve grown.”

“Well, he can’t, and I don’t want to talk about him.”

Her mother sighed, “Nasha…”

“What?”

“I sent something to your school.”

“What?” She hated it when her mom interfered with her school life, and she knew it. Why would she send something to her school?

“Well, technically, I sent it as a war general.”

“What?”

She turned to look at her, “And they sent it back to me today.”

“What in the world did you send them?” For some reason, she didn’t like where this was going.

“Technically…” her mother was choosing her words wisely, “it was your father’s.”

She really didn’t like where this was going, “Mom-”

“I know, you don’t like it when I interfere, but… he had recorded it for people to learn.”

“Mom!”

“I still haven’t fully watched it.”

She knew exactly what she was talking about. The video that they had watched on his damned birthday at that. She groaned, why was she telling her this? Why did she need to tell her this? She shouldn’t have said anything, she would have never known her mom was ruining her high school life if she didn’t tell her anything.

Her mom bent down and pulled a box out from underneath the couch. A box she recognized, and a box she had never seen the contents of. Her father wouldn’t let her when they were little. He pushed it aside when she got too close to it when he had first brought it home. Her eyes widened as her mom hauled the box onto her lap, carefully, and hesitantly opening it up.

“I… I wasn’t going to ever have you see this… but… when I found out that the school I sent the film to was yours… I figured you should know, too.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“I know.” her mom replied, “and I don’t want you to know either.”

She had seen a bit of the film, she pushed her mom’s hand so that the box closed again, “If you’re going to show me things that will make me pity that man, don’t.”

Her mom shook her head, “No. I’m showing you stuff that showed just how strong your father was.” Her mom had a pained smile on her face that told her longing and desire. She missed her father more than anything in the world, and, despite him breaking his promise to her, too, she still loved him more than life itself. She slid her hand back into her lap as the box opened. Her mother pulled out the roll of film, but only to put it aside. It seemed like she was grabbing the other contents that were in that box. The roll of film lay gently on the pillow beside her mom, and away from her. Her mom turned, and placed the box between the two of them. “I know that film is hard to watch, that’s why I couldn’t finish it. I won’t force you to watch it.” She placed a celluloid film in her hand. “But you should listen to this.”

She turned the recorder around in her hand, and looked up at her mom, “If this is his voice, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I know.” her mom sighed, “but… he wanted you to hear it.”

She groaned, and tossed it onto the ground, “I said I don’t want to hear it, Mom, I hate him.”

Her mom stared silently at the film, “Don’t ruin it. It’s the only recording of his voice we have.”

“Well, I don’t care!” she exclaimed, and kicked the film, causing it to unroll even more. She looked back at her mom as her eyes widened, and tears were forming in her eyes. She dropped her gaze from the film, and grabbed the roll of film, carefully placing it back in the box, and closing it.

“I care, Nasha.” she whispered, “So please don’t treat your father’s things like that.”

She rolled her eyes as her mom quietly made her way back into her bedroom, clutching the box in her hands. She didn't say anything. Nasha groaned, it was well past midnight, what on earth were they doing in the dim lighting of their living room, lit only because of her bedroom door being wide open. She stared down at the film, as it lay there unrolled on the ground. She ruffled her hair and stared down at it again. Her chest ached, and she turned away from it, only for her eyes to see a photo that must have slipped out of the box her mom had. A photo that she assumed would just be like the photos she had seen on that film, but instead she was greeted with a bright smile of her dad, holding her small form. He held her so gently with both arms, as if he was worried she was made of glass. Her small hands were reaching up to grab his face, all of her attention was on him. She grit her teeth, and looked back at the film on the ground. She glanced back at her mother's door, closed. She got up off the couch and carefully rolled back up the film. She took a deep breath, maybe listening to him would give her what she needed in order to sleep properly.

In her room, where her recorder was, she usually listened to music on it, she carefully threaded the film into its spot. She closed the door, and turned down the volume of the recorder before playing the celluloid film. At first it turned out silent, there was nobody saying anything, but then…

[“Is it recording?” Her father's voice. “Ah, I see. Thanks for this. Ehem. Um… can I do a retake, I wasn't ready. Ah, okay. Fine. You'll cut this part off then?”]

Her throat hurt hearing him talk so ridiculously, as if he were still here. As if he didn't break such an important promise. He was such a liar, how could she ever-

[“Nasha, my sweet little girl, you made it to high school, right? I'm so proud of you!”]

She choked.

[“We're probably doing something fun for your birthday, right?”]

“No. You didn't do anything, you backstabber.”

[“I bet you had the largest cake ever! Daddy's so proud of you! Ah, wait, if you're a teenager now… you probably don't call me Daddy anymore, huh. Hey, so do teenagers call their dad ‘Daddy’? What? Why? Well, cause my daughter calls me that all the time, and I'd hate it if she suddenly stopped. How old? She's five. She started primary school recently, actually, that's why I've gotta leave and pick her up soon. Why am I recording this? Ah! Right! Nasha! Daddy got a chance to come to a recording studio!”]

She rolled her eyes, was he talking to her or not? This was frustrating. She reached her hand out to stop the playback but stopped-

[“Mommy and I wanted to do a time capsule for you, you know. But then, there was the war, and that prison thing, and all that annoying stuff. Ah, if you're in high school now, the war it's probably over, right? What'd we do to celebrate? I bet we threw a big party!”]

If you count a funeral as a party, yeah, it was huge. Even at eight, she thought that the people coming to pay their respects would never end. Her mom never stopped crying the whole time, and… well… she did cry a lot at first, but after realizing that he betrayed her, she snuffed it up. Why should she cry over a man like that? 

[“I wish I could be there now!” He laughed.]

Her eyes widened and her hand fell to her side. She knew he was talking about how he wanted to jump into the future, but for some reason it felt like he was telling her something else, something so much more important. 

[“Nasha, my princess, my baby girl, my little dragon, you know you're so special to me. I'm always going to protect you and love you, okay? I know, I can probably tell you that right now, in the future? What would that be? Ugh, whatever, I'll figure that out later. But, Nasha, whatever had happened in your life, whatever will happen in your life, whether you're getting amazing grades like your mom, or eating a buffet like your dad, just know that I'll always be there for you. If you're listening to this with me, in the future, right now…? I'm probably giving you a big hug, right? You probably still like Daddy's hugs, right?”]

“No, I hate them. You stopped giving them. You were awful at hugs.” When had she started crying? Her voice was choking as it came out, and weak.

[“So, my little girl, Daddy will always protect you, always support you, and always love you. I know you'll do well, you've got your mom's brains. Love you my little dragon.” There was a pause before he continued, “Ah, am I st-”]

She shoved off the recorder, and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Always? Yeah, right. She wanted to tear it out of its place on the recorder, to tear it apart, but… despite her resolve to hate him, she couldn't rip the recording of his voice. As much as she stared at it, and gritted her teeth as she recalled everything he said on it, and knowing there was more that she hadn't gotten to, she couldn't rip it apart, it was as if her dad was really right there next to her, talking to her, saying he loved her and would protect her. But he was a liar, a scumbag, a backstabber, a betrayer, and an awful man. She looked down at the picture she had brought with her to her room, and he faked his smiles all the time, she was certain. He had to have been always faking, especially if he was going to break his promise the way he did.

She lay back down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling of her room. If she could go back in time, she’d probably grab a hold of him so tightly that he wouldn’t leave her alone. If he was going to break such a promise, she’d withhold him so that he couldn’t. She’d trap him with her to make sure he never broke a single promise. She didn’t care if it ruined him. He deserved that. He deserved to be destroyed from the inside out, because he intended to destroy her that way. Always love her? Always support her? What lies was he spewing? There was no way he was telling the truth, because if he was, where was he? He wasn’t here with her. He wasn’t protecting her. He wasn’t supporting her. He absolutely wasn’t loving her, either. If he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have left her. If he truly loved her as much as he said he did, he wouldn’t have left her. Ever. She hated him. Again, though, she felt her eyes burning. Why did she want to cry over a man like him? He never protected her, anyway.

“What is it baby?” her mom asked as she noticed her bedroom door had opened. Nasha tiptoed into the room, carefully closing the door quietly behind her. She hadn’t expected her mom to be awake at this hour. Usually her mom was asleep at this time. She waddled over to the bed, grabbing a hold of the comforter to steady herself as her mom looked down at her.

“Daddy’s still here?” she asked. He had been gone for so long, she was worried that him coming home was all a dream.

Her mom reached down and pulled her up onto the bed, placing her down beside her, “Daddy’s sleeping.”

She looked over to the person who was laying beside her mom, her small hands reaching toward him, only to be pulled back. She looked up at her mom, why was she stopping her? Her mom was crying. The tears weren’t on her cheeks, but she was crying. “Mommy?”

“Gentle, Nasha, Daddy’s hurt.”

She looked back at her dad, his back towards her. She crawled out of her mom’s grasp and patted her dad on the shoulder. His ear looked funny, it didn’t look the way it used to. What happened to it? Her fingers pushed his hair out of the way and poked at his ear. It was missing parts of it. She heard her mom telling her to be gentle, telling her to stop, but her attention was on the way her dad made a face before his eyes slowly opened, blinking away the sleep.

“Daddy?”

He buried his face in the pillow, so now his perfectly fine ear was on her side. She poked this ear, hoping he’d look at her, hoping he’d acknowledge her. She looked over to her mom, he didn’t respond to her when she called his name. Did he not like her anymore? Her mom sighed, scooping up her daughter, “Why don’t you call Daddy a little bit louder this time?”

She looked back to her dad, “Daddy?” she asked.

He turned his head to look at her, grunting as his funny looking ear smashed into the pillow, “Yes, baby?” he replied, in a voice so soft and quiet, as if he was still asleep.

She crawled out of her mom’s arms, and grabbed at her dad’s back, “Daddy’s here, right?”

He groaned, lifting up his arm, as if to pull her close to him, but most of the arm wasn’t even there, “Daddy’s home.” he smiled.

“I’m sorry, Natsu,” her mom mumbled, taking Nasha’s hands off of her dad’s back.

He shook his head, “It’s fine, it’s fine.” he replied, attempting to cuddle his daughter closer to him.

Nasha whimpered as she felt half of her dad’s arm against her. She leaned down, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against his back. His wings truly weren’t there. She didn’t like how her dad looked now. She wanted him to go back to how he used to be. She tightened her grip on him. She had to be dreaming, because this was a nightmare.

“You should have just been grateful to have him back.” Nasha grumbled, as she stared at a picture of her three year old self.

“What was that?” Larima asked, sitting down beside her.

“Oh, nothing, when was this from, anyway?”

Larima looked down at the picture she was holding, “I think that was from back when the war had restarted.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, “Greige’s mom, my mom, and a couple other moms who weren’t soldiers used to watch us, remember?”

She shrugged, “Not really.”

“That’s probably because that time didn’t last long for you. When your dad came back he was always watching you, unless we were at preschool or primary school, during the war.”

“I see. Was it fun?”

“What fun?”

“Spending time with the other kids our age all the time.”

Larima shrugged, “I mean, it was sometimes, but sometimes it was just a hassle. I remember my mom fretting about making sure all the kids had food.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, do you remember how empty our fridges were during the war? My dad always brought back war rations for us when he was home.”

She shrugged, “Not really, my dad made a lot of meals.”

“Apparently your dad ate a lot.” she laughed, and picked up one of the pictures, “My dad said that when he was their general he would feast like no tomorrow after a victory.”

Nasha rolled her eyes, “Can we not talk about him?”

“I’m sorry,” Larima replied, and picked up a different picture, “Hey, do you remember when we went to the cherry blossom festival?”

“Which one?”

“The one that you fell into the river.”

Nasha groaned, “Ugh, don’t remind me, my mom was freaking out for a month after that.”

Larima shrugged, “To be fair, your mom has always been fussy about you.”

“Yeah, I wish I had your mom. She’s so relaxed.”

“Well, your mom was also a general in the war, and mine wasn’t.”

“She needs to relax more often.” Nasha sighed, “She’s always so tense. She was also very skittish for a couple years after the war ended.”

“Yeah, my dad was like that, too.” Larima replied, leaning against her bed, “I think there were a few times where Garnet and I woke up to him screaming. One time, we rushed into the room to see what happened. My dad doesn’t scream, like ever, right? My mom was comforting him, rubbing her hand up and down his back, while pressing her cheek against his. Honestly, we were gonna ask what had happened, but my mom shook her head, and waved for us to leave, with a smile on her face. We didn’t go into the room much after that. Later, my mom told me that that’s what wars can do to people, and to not worry about it too much.”

Nasha listened in silence. While her mom had done that on occasion, the thing her mom did more was just stare in silence for hours, in one spot in the house. It was so unnerving, as if she was seeing something that others couldn’t. One time, though, she jolted forward as if to catch something even though nothing was falling. When she came to her senses, she just cried in silence. Another time, she just stood in the kitchen staring at the wall for at least an hour, and she swore every time she looked at her she didn’t see her blink, at all. But she had to have blinked a few times, right? Still, it made her mom seem inhuman. Sent shivers down her spine as a child. Her mom still did that on occasion, but not for as long, and not as creepily as she used to. However, when the war had first ended, her mom would randomly break down on the floor grabbing at her chest and scream, and it would seriously put her own ears into shock.

Regardless, it was true that the war had done crazy things to peoples’ minds. Though, she didn’t think she would ever hear about Larima’s dad acting the way she said he did. She could only imagine how scary it’d be to hear a man who looked and sounded like he did to suddenly burst out screaming. Speaking of him, actually, he knocked on her open door, causing the two of them to look up from the pictures at him.

“You’re home?” Larima asked.

“Just got home. Your mom is making dinner. What are you doing?” he asked.

“Looking at pictures.” Larima replied, “Mom said we could.”

He nodded, and looked down at what they were looking at, “Man, I looked horrid without my locks.” her dad muttered.

“What?”

He knelt down and picked up a picture to show it to them, “We had to have hair of a certain length while serving.” He flipped it over, “I cut mine as long as I possibly could without breaking code.”

Nasha looked at the picture, she hadn’t seen that one in the stack, how had he seen it? It was a picture of four of the people who were in the Dragon Corps. Larima’s dad was messing with her dad’s hair, pushing him down, and causing her dad to have an annoyed look on his face as he tried to fight back at him, with both arms. All four of the soldiers had their wings. Two of them were simply smiling as if they were used to their dads’ behaviors. Her eyes were drawn from Larima’s dad to her own. The way his eyes squinted as he smiled, told her that despite him being annoyed, he still cared for him. She carefully grabbed the picture out of his hand, and looked down at it. They were much younger than she ever remembered seeing her dad, he looked to be in his teens. She flipped over the photo to see the date that was written on the back of it, XX62, her dad must have been around sixteen, her age.

“Where’s Lieutenant Marvel?” she asked.

Larima’s dad’s eyes laughed, “She wasn’t drafted yet.”

“Oh.” She handed the picture back to him, and looked up at him, “You guys had time to take a photo?” Her focus landed on his folded wings on his back, every so slightly twitching, as if eager to open up wide.

“This was between battles.” he admitted, “It’s not like the war was constant.”

“Not even before the standstill?” Larima asked, scooting over to him. She was always so eager to learn about the war, even now. Sometimes Nasha wondered why she hung out with her when anytime the war was brought up, in some form or fashion, she’d want to learn more about it. Weren’t they learning enough about it in school right now?

“No. Of course, it was a bit more brutal back then.” He shrugged, “A lot of us got tons of battle wounds.” He flipped the picture back over and pointed at Natsu, Nasha’s dad, “Like look at how baby this idiot’s face is. He doesn’t even have his face or neck scars.”

“What about you, Dad-” she began, obviously trying to change the subject from Nasha’s father.

“But my dad got more battle scars after the standstill was broken.” she interrupted.

Gajeel, Larima’s dad, frowned, and sat down, crossing his legs in his lap, “He did, yeah, and he never told us how he got them. Probably ‘cause he was weak.” He shrugged, “And I mean, while I did get a number of nasty scars during the first part of the war, I didn’t lose my eye until the second.”

“And didn’t most of the population disappear when the second part broke out?” Larima asked.

He nodded, “Sure, it did. Of what was left, and as suddenly as it had happened. However, over all the war had taken, ah, I’m sure you know this, you’re as smart as your mom.” he ruffled her hair.

“Dad, stop it!” She exclaimed, swatting his hand away, “And yeah, over a third of the population had died during the war.”

“I’d argue over a third survived.” He countered, “There were casualties on both sides.”

Nasha sighed, “Yeah, but… you still made it out.”

The two of them went silent. Larima kept opening her mouth to say something, but closed it again and again. She patted her shoulder instead, as if to apologize for saying things that might offend her. Instead, though, her dad spoke up, “Your dad was a great general, even if he annoyed me, he was trustworthy. Don’t hate him so much.” He grunted as he stood up, stretching his wings out a bit, “You staying for dinner?”

“Honey! Larima! Garnet! Nasha! Dinner!” she heard Larima’s mom exclaim.

“Guess that’s a yes.” Larima’s dad answered his own question.

Nasha headed down to the kitchen, following her friend. In all honesty, she wasn’t originally planning on staying for dinner, but she was sure her mom wouldn’t mind if she stayed. Besides, if she asked, it wasn’t anything big, or important. Her mom was close with Larima’s mom, after all. Larima’s home was bigger than her own, and it drove her a bit crazy that her mom didn’t choose to move into one of the newer houses that were built after the war had ended. Why did she want to stay in a house that was half underground?

She knew the answer to that question, even if she didn’t think it. Her mom was clinging onto the past as if it was her last life line. It irked her. She got so frustrated when she had gotten rid of that old rocking chair that they hadn’t used in literal years, and would try to convince her, even if she said she wasn’t, that her dad was actually a good person. If he was a good person, like everyone seemed to say he was, then he definitely wasn’t a good dad. He wasn’t here, after all.

“Did you find any photos that brought back good memories?” Larima’s mom asked as she sat down at the table.

“Eh,” Nasha replied, looking down at the meal that had been prepared for them.

“Not even a single one?”

Nasha sighed, “Not really.”

“I did.” Larima exclaimed, “I found a couple of good photos! Hey, mom, do you remember when you used to take care of us while Dad was in the war?”

Her mom smiled, as she lifted the pot off the stove, only for her husband to scoop in and grab it, “Thanks. How could I forget?”

“I found a photo from when Nasha used to join us.”

“Oh?” Auntie Levy, Larima’s mom, replied, sitting down at the table.

“Was she messy?” Garnet asked, eager to dig into the food.

“No.” Nasha sighed, “I wasn’t.”

Larima smiled, “Made me want to recreate the photo.”

“Recreate it?”

She nodded, “Yeah, there’s this trend with the kids right now, recreating old photos or photos of their parents. It’s pretty popular.”

“Is that why you wanted to look at the photos?”

She nodded.

“Count me out of it.” Garnet groaned.

“You should recreate the photo with the other dragon corps members.” Uncle Gajeel piped in, “Sting and Rogue’s kids may be small, but it’d be cool to recreate it.”

Nasha groaned, “I’d rather recreate a photo of my mom.”

“Why?”

Garnet answered before anyone else could, “She hates her dad’s guts.”

It wasn’t a secret. Everyone knew it, especially her friends who were kids of his friends. She poked her spoon in the soup, pushing around the potatoes, but not picking anything up. She didn’t exactly want to talk about it, after all. She sighed, “Yeah, that’s why.”

“You know,” Levy smiled, putting down the baby spoon that she was using to feed their youngest, “It wouldn’t hurt to try and understand your father.”

“Understand what?” Nasha sighed, “That he was awful?”

Larima’s mom let out a soft laugh, “He sure was idiotic, that’s for sure.”

“Wouldn’t think things through all the way.” Gajeel piped in.

“Still…” Levy sighed, and scooped up some of the food on the baby spoon, “He was reliable.”

“That’s true.” Gajeel nodded, “Him being on the battlefield really did bring troops morale up.”

“Yeah, Jet and Droy used to tell me all the time how much they’d regain their strength just because Natsu threw a punch.” She smiled, and looked at her husband, “That being said, all of the dragon corps really did bring up morale a lot.”

“You’re not going to try and convince me to change my mind about him.” Nasha muttered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Levy replied, “But, just like I tell my kids, and husband, you should always learn both sides of a story before you stake an opinion on it.”

“Both sides of the story?” Nasha sighed, she didn’t want to talk about her dead dad right now.

“I hear the schools aren’t giving all the information on the war.”

“We’ve been learning about the war all year, Mom,” Garnet groaned, “I think we’re all pretty done with it.”

“Yes, but-”

“Garnet, we did learn new information about the war, though.”

“Oh?” Levy asked, wiping the food off of her little one’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Larima adjusted herself to get closer to her mom, “Somebody in the military had donated a bit of film where a general talked about what happened in the enemy concentration camps.”

“Really?”

Nasha dropped her gaze to stare at the base of her bowl. Her mom was the wretched person who donated that bit of film.

“Yeah, except, it was pretty exclusive, and was returned not long after we watched it.” Larima continued, she seemed to have forgotten whose father was being interviewed in that film.

“Wait.” Gajeel interrupted, “Who was the general?”

“What?”

“Who was the general in the film?” he clarified.

“Oh, well, I… I don’t really remember, it wasn’t a name I recognized, though.” Larima stuttered, embarrassed for not knowing something.

“Dragneel.” Garnet answered, scooping up a big bite of the soup.

“What?” Gajeel asked.

“Yeah,” Garnet shrugged, “the general’s name was Dragneel. They said he was the general of the dragon corps, but he didn’t have wings.”

“Did you even watch the film?” Larima exclaimed.

“The first five minutes.” Garnet retaliated.

Nasha felt like sinking in her seat. They just kept bringing up her dad, didn’t they? Why did they have to keep doing that? She hated him so much, and talking about him all the time was making her feel sick, she felt her appetite leaving her the more words they spoke.

“Larima,” Gajeel stated, “you said he was talking about the concentration camps?”

“Yeah.”

Larima’s father groaned, “That idiot.” he sighed, “I’m sorry, Nasha, I’m sure you didn’t want to watch something like that.”

Nasha shook her head, “It’s fine. He deserved it.” she muttered before she could stop herself, and the table went quiet. She was grateful it had gotten quiet, she didn’t want to completely lose her appetite. She took a bite of the soup, not hearing anyone else do the same. Even the baby was quiet. She slowly looked up to see everyone staring at her in silence, well, everyone except Garnet, who had finished his food and left.

“Nasha…” Larima spoke up, “How could you say that?”

“Was I wrong, though?” Nasha snapped, “I mean, you-”

“Nasha.” Levy’s calm voice interrupted her, “I think you need to go home.”

“What?”

She sighed, handing the baby spoon to her husband, “I get it, you don’t like your father, nobody can change your mind, but, you need to be mindful of your words, especially around people who did like your father and knew your father. Regardless, to say that someone deserved the torture he no doubt went through is just wrong. It makes you no better than those who had tortured him.”

She groaned, “So you’re lecturing me? I know you’re a teacher but-”

“My mom’s right, Nasha.” Larima stated, not getting up from her seat, “I know you don’t get it, and think it’s right for you to say that, because he’s your dad and all, but, like, from taking out the chair that your mom loves to saying that, I don’t think that’s right.”

Larima was always the one who had to be the ‘miss goody-two-shoes’ and it really put a damper on things. Couldn’t she say what she wanted about the guy? He was dead, after all. It wasn’t like he could have a say in what she did or said. Why did it matter to anyone if she said she hated him or not? He wasn’t here, after all. She rolled her eyes, and pushed herself away from the table, if they didn’t want her here, then she’d leave, big deal.

“Nasha.” Levy’s voice stopped her from walking away, and she turned around to face the woman. She was about the same height as herself, a few inches shorter than her mom.

“What?” she groaned.

“Hating someone is never going to turn out well for you.” She looked over to her husband briefly before back to her, “I’m not saying you have to love him, but you’ll waste away if you just keep on hating him like this.”

Nasha groaned, “You can say that ‘cause your husband is right there. My dad isn’t.” It was common knowledge around her friend group that Larima’s and Garnet’s parents didn’t start out on a good foot.

“I know.” Levy replied, “But your mother’s here, isn’t she?”

“What does this have to do with her?”

“She’s your mother.” Levy replied, carefully grabbing her hands, folding them in her own, “And she’s his wife. She lost him, too, you know. Why don’t you stop hating on him, and start loving her?”

“You saying I don’t love my mom? I-”

“Nasha.” Levy interrupted her, “What you’re saying and doing is hurting your mom, I’m not saying you need to love your dad, I’m saying you need to be considerate of your mom, and the others you care about.”

“Yeah, but you guys are all defenders of that man, and-”

“Your father was a good guy, Nasha, if you put aside your-”

“You guys all say that because you’re biased.” She groaned, “If my dad was truly such a great guy, then where the hell is he? He sure as hell ain’t a great father.” She turned around and stormed out of the house.

Why did she even go to Larima’s place after school in the first place? She was stupid. Larima wanted to join the trend that their classmates were doing, and so she had followed suit, but honestly, she should’ve known something like this would have happened. It’s all because of that stupid memorial day and her dad’s birthday a little while ago, it’s messing everything up. She was doing fine not thinking about his dumb face all year so far, so why did it all come and hit her in the head now?

She groaned as she stood on the sidewalk. Honestly, she didn’t want to deal with any of this crap, and didn’t want to deal with her mom when she got home, either. She looked out upon the horizon, seeing all of the construction in the distance from where that huge ice wall once was. Some people were still a bit too nervous to go out into where they were expanding, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t really got the time to see what exactly they were building after all, only had heard it here and there. She supposed a long walk could help clear her mind. Because she really needed to clear it.

He frowned, as he held her hair in the high ponytail he had pulled it up into, clicking his tongue, as if trying to figure out a way to keep it like that in his condition. His brows furrowed as she stared at him in the mirror. She knew she shouldn’t have asked him to do her hair, but she had thought that since it wasn’t braids this time, then he’d be able to do it. For a while, he used to keep trying and trying to get her braids right, but as she got older, she didn’t feel comfortable heading to school with hair that looked like she slept in it during a hurricane.

“Daddy,” she interrupted his thoughts, “I can tie it.”

“What?” he replied, “Ah, no, I’ve got this, Nasha, don’t worry-”

“Daddy.” she stated, a hair tie in hand as she grabbed the ponytail in her own hands, covering his own, “I’ve got it.”

His face fell a bit, but he backed away from her, “Don’t need my help anymore?”

She shook her head, as she pulled her hair through the hair tie, “No, but, I need it to be neat.”

“I see,” He smiled, and leaned down a bit, “Is that why you’d practice on my hair?”

She looked over at him, “You and I have similar hair types, Daddy.”

He smiled, “Does that mean you’re not going to-”

“Do you want your hair in a high pony?”

He shrugged, “Do you want to put it up in one? I don’t think it’s long enough.”

Not long enough? She laughed. Of course his hair was long enough, it was down to his shoulders again. He didn’t seem to like to cut it short, though, which kind of confused her. His hair was longer than Larima’s dad’s hair. She grabbed a hair tie, “I can try.”

He smiled, and knelt down, his brace creaking loudly as he did so. He needed to go to the hospital and get a new one. She grabbed the wide toothed comb, and began pulling his hair back. He was silent the whole time, eyes closed softly as he let her yank on his hair, as if it didn’t hurt him in the slightest when she tried to get out a knot. He must have a strong head, because it really hurts trying to get knots out of the hair. She would practice on her mom’s hair, but not only was it not the same hair type as her own, she was barely ever home.

She pulled the hair back, but let it fall again as it exposed his messed up ear. She focused on the other side of his head. He didn’t seem to say anything at first, until she had most of it in the hold of her hand, and she was about to tie it up when her dad muttered, in the sweetest voice, “You missed some, baby.” His fingers were holding up the hair that she had left to cover his off-putting looking ear. She didn’t think about it much when she had been a bit younger, but now, it just kind of, looked weird, and she didn’t like looking at it. His arm was easy to avoid looking at, unless he was wearing a tank top, but his ear was something else. She used to think that the reason he kept his hair long was to cover it, but there were a few occasions where he’d push his hair back with a barrette, exposing his ear. It didn’t look natural to only have half of an ear like he did.

“I was about to get it.” she muttered, grabbing the hair from his fingers and pulling it into the ponytail. “There, all done!” she exclaimed.

His brace creaked again as he stood up, and looked in the mirror, “Looks good, are you gonna be a hair dresser?”

She smirked, proud of her work, “I’m thinking about it.”

“You should talk to your mom’s crab friend, he’s good at hair.”

Her dad said weird things instead of peoples’ names sometimes. Her mom’s crab friend was a guy who had these red braids that were always pulled up in buns. Her dad said they looked like crab claws, but she didn’t see it. Her dad had a tendency to correlate everything to something he could eat, after all.

“Next time, Daddy, I want to try a waterfall braid.”

“Waterfall braid?” he repeated, fixing his bangs in the mirror.

“Yep!” she exclaimed, “it’s like a braid that goes around your head but not all of your hair is put up in it. Larima said her mom did it for her once, and I want to try it.”

He heated up his hand as he curled his bangs to his liking, “Why don’t you wear it, then, if you like it?” he asked, looking down at her.

She looked in the mirror, and attempted to curl her own bangs like her dad did, but try as she might, she couldn’t get the heat to come out of her hand, “I want to try doing it, Daddy, and I can’t on my own head.”

He bent down, and began doing the same thing he did to his bangs to hers, “Want me to try?”

She looked in the mirror, to make sure her hair matched her dad’s, “It’s okay, Daddy, it’s supposed to be a very difficult braid.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing the container of hair gel, and turning to her dad.

With her holding it steady, he opened it up, “You think I can’t do it?” he asked, placing the lid on the counter.

“No, it’s not that,” she replied, as he dipped his fingers into the gel, and started to fix his bangs in place, before moving to the hair that his daughter put up into a ponytail, making sure the waves kept their shape.

“Don’t you want to wear a waterfall braid?” he asked, confirming that he liked how his hair looked before positioning her in front of him, and she placed the tub of gel on the counter for him to use.

“It’s pretty, I’d like to wear it, but I don’t think you could do it.”

“Oh?” he asked, fixing the hair in her ponytail with the gel, “And why’s that, dragon?”

She tilted her head back to look up at him, “Larima said her mom had difficulties with it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, adding a tiny bit of gel to her bangs, “Levy couldn’t do it?”

She nodded, and looked back into the mirror, “So, it’s probably too hard for you.”

He bent down, putting a hand on her shoulder, as he pressed his cheek against hers, “How many hands do you think is needed?”

She frowned, “Larima’s mom has two, so three?”

“Then problem solved!” He exclaimed, “You’ve got two hands, and I’ve got one. We could work together to do it.”

She laughed, that wasn’t exactly how it worked. She spun around and gave him a big hug, “Thanks, Daddy.”

He gave her a pat on the back, “No problem, princess.”

“I’ve got to get going, Larima is probably waiting for me at the park!”

“Going by yourself?” He asked, as he watched her dash out of the bathroom.

“Larima said her mom would be there.” she replied.

“Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then…” the phone rang, and she watched him limp over to it, “make sure you come back before it gets dark, Nasha.”

“I will!” she exclaimed, tying her shoes.

“Heartfilia residence,” her dad answered.

She tapped her toes together in her shoes. These were a brand new pair of shoes that she had just got when she went out with her dad the other day.

“What?” Her dad exclaimed, “Sir, you can’t be serious! But that’s…”

“Daddy, I’m going!” she called, peeking around the corner at him. His eyes were wide and he had a huge scowl on his face. He looked frustrated about something, and scared? “Daddy!” she called again. When his one good ear was pressed against the phone, sometimes he didn’t hear her. Over the years, his hearing in his damaged ear has gotten worse and worse.

“Aren’t there other ice users in the defense corps, though?” he groaned. “I understand, sir. And the Spirits Corps?”

“Daddy!” she exclaimed again, knocking her hand on the wall, as he pressed his forehead against it.

“So she’s fine, then?” he asked, “Sir, what’s the power status?”

“Daddy!” she exclaimed again, knocking against the wall again.

He looked over to her, an expression on his face that told her he felt horrible for not hearing her. He no doubt was reading her expression that told him she had called his name multiple times already. He gave her a smile, as he listened to whoever was on the other side. “I understand, sir.”

“I’m going, Daddy.” she stated.

He smiled, and gave her a nod, telling her that he acknowledged what she said. She was hesitant to leave, but that big smile from her dad gave her the confidence that everything was going to be alright. She smiled back at him, before hurrying out the door. Hearing a ‘yes, sir. I understand, sir.’ from her dad as the door closed behind her.

She skipped down the sidewalk to meet her friend at the park. The large ice wall looming over them in the distance, as if reminding her not to take a step outside of the barrier. She lived like this her whole life, but sometimes she did wonder what exactly was beyond that icewall that they had to be so protected from. It was no secret to anyone that their parents were fighting battles after battles, and everyone knew that the ice wall was protecting them, but it didn’t stop her from being curious.

“Nasha!” Larima exclaimed, running over to her as she reached the park. There were other kids with their parents there, too, but there were also some who were by themselves like she was.

“Sorry, I had to do my daddy’s hair.” She said as they met up with each other.

“Did he do your hair again?” Larima asked.

She nodded, “Yeah.”

Larima shook her head, “You should ask your mom- Oh, nevermind.”

She skipped over to the playground with Larima following in her footsteps, “You want to play Dragons and Princesses again?”

“Eh, I was thinking of playing something else.” Larima sighed, “I was reading this new book-”

“But I wanted to play Dragons and Princesses.”

“I know,” Larima grumbled, “but this book I was reading was about pirates and fairies and I just…”

Nasha slid down the slide, “So, where’s the pirate ship?”

Larima’s eyes sparkled, “You want to play my game?”

She nodded, “Daddy and Mommy told me that I had to ‘step in Larima’s shoes’ so let’s play your game for now, and if it’s stupid we can play mine.”

Larima pouted, “It’s not stupid, Garnet likes it.”

Nasha’s eyes widened, “Your stupid brother?”

She nodded, “Yeah, he thinks it’s fun.”

She shrugged, and started fiddling with her hair, “I guess we can play that… I’m a pirate, though. Pirates wear their hair up.”

Honestly, the game was quite fun. They even invited some of the other kids on the playground to play the game with them, too. Also, to make it even more fun, she decided she was a dragon pirate, so she used fire on them when they tried to steal away the fairy that she had trapped, which was Larima. Larima told her that pirates aren’t dragons, because dragons can’t stand being on boats, but that was stupid. Her dragon was able to do that, because her dragon lost her wings.

The playground shook and something fell on her head, right when she was going to defeat the other kids who were trying to rescue Larima from her prison. She picked up the piece that had fallen on her, it was a piece of ice. She looked up, why was ice falling? Where did it fall from?

“Larima!” she heard Larima’s mom exclaim, “Where are you, baby?”

“She’s my prisoner!” Nasha exclaimed, laughing.

“Nasha Dragneel Heartfilia!” She heard her father’s yell, it sounded kind of like a roar. She looked over to see him heaving, trying to catch his breath as he balanced on his one good leg, telling her that he had run over here from their house.

“Daddy, why are you here?” she asked, before pouting, “She’s not actually my prisoner, we’re playing a game-”

“Get over here, right now!” He exclaimed.

“What?” Why was her dad mad? She slid down the slide, trudging over to him slowly. Larima made her way to her mom, who was beside her dad, patting his back as if trying to help him regain his strength.

“Why are you so out of breath, Natsu?” she asked.

He looked over at her, “You noticed it, right?” he asked.

“The ice? Yeah, I-”

“The wall was breached.” He heaved, “Take your kids home, now.”

“Do you want me to take Nasha?” she asked.

He looked over to his daughter as she came closer to him, he gave her a big smile, and said, “No, that’ll only make them more scared.”

“Daddy…” she muttered, dropping her gaze to her feet, “I wasn’t keeping Larima there against her will, she wanted to be the prisoner. It was just a game.”

“I know, baby,” He replied, patting her head, “What happened to your hair?”

She pulled at her hair, covering her face with it. In the midst of their game she had lost the hair tie that was holding her ponytail. She felt bad, her dad tried so hard to get it right, too. She glanced through her hair as she saw the other parents start pulling their kids back from the playground and leading them home. The kids that weren’t with their parents were following their friends, a bit confused it seemed.

“Daddy…” she said, looking at the chaos of parents hurriedly grabbing their children’s arms and pulling them away. “Is this because some ice fell?”

He knelt down, “Nasha, you’re a big girl, right?”

She nodded.

“Do you think that you’ll be able to stay in the hidden room in the house for a little bit?”

“Are you going to be there?” Nasha asked.

He smiled, “Get on my back, we gotta hurry back home, we’ll wait together until Greige’s dad can fix the ice, okay?”

She nodded, and climbed up onto his back, wrapping her legs tightly around his torso, and pressing her face into his neck, as he tried to support her with his arm, and began running back home, limping the whole way, tightening his grip on her the longer he ran. She could hear his breath heaving, and could feel his sweat on her skin. He looked so desperate when he was talking to Larima’s mom. It was a bit of a distance from their house, and she tightened her grip on her dad. Something was wrong, her dad didn’t seem as confident as he usually did. Was it because of that phone call he had gotten?

There was a loud bang sound, and she whipped her head over in the direction she heard it coming from. There was smoke beyond the barrier, between it and the ice wall. She had never seen that kind of thing before. She looked back to the back of her dad’s head. He had lost his ponytail she had given him, too, but she wasn’t going to ask him about it. Maybe he had been playing dragon pirates, too. Another loud bang sound, as they reached the house, her dad dropped to his knees immediately, and she got off of his back.

“Hurry up, baby,” he stated, as she made her way to the door.

“Daddy, are you okay?” she asked, as he heaved, trying to catch his breath again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m f-” His eyes widened, and his attention snapped in the direction that she had seen the smoke. Did he hear something? But how would he hear something that she couldn’t even hear? Her dad’s hearing was worse than her own. “Luce…” he breathed out, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him.

She kicked at the rock that blocked her path as she made her way over to the remains of the ice wall. She had already made her way out of where that barrier used to be, that divided the town from the military camps. Despite it being eight years since the war had ended, the military bases were still active, just not as busy as they used to be. She stared up at the night sky. It had cleared up a bit and had gotten darker the longer she walked. She knew her mom would be upset at her for doing this, but she needed space, and she had never been this far out. She took in the scenery around her, mountains looming beyond where the ice wall had ended, trees hiding tents under their branches. At least, that’s how it was beyond where the military camps covered. She sighed, and watched as a star shot across the sky.

“It’s quiet out here, isn’t it?” she heard someone say, and she looked in the direction of the newcomer as she heard uneven footsteps approaching her.

“Quieter than back home.” She grumbled, turning her attention away from him.

He sat down next to her and stared up at the sky beside her, “You’re a lot like your mom in times like these.”

She rolled her eyes, “Uncle Gray, if you’re just going to tease me-”

“I’m not,” he replied, and lifted his leg up, ice fell off of it and shattered on the ground, “I needed to fix my foot, and I saw you looking so melancholy it reminded me of when your mom was younger.”

She pouted, “So?” She didn’t need another person lecturing her about her parents, especially not about her dad, but she supposed she’d hear him out for now, because he didn’t bring up that man… yet.

“Nothing, nothing, it was just… A different time back then.” He shrugged, “When we were your age, we had hopes and dreams that we thought we’d be able to accomplish. Your mom wanted to be a writer. But with the war, it was pipe dreams in the midst of battle. Your mom would stare up at the sky just like how you’re doing quite often.” He laughed, “Sometimes your dad would actually find the best places in the training base for her to stargaze.”

She rolled her eyes, “He was always thinking about her.”

“Of course,” Gray replied, as he made himself a new foot with the limited amount of ice he had now, “He loved her.”

“More than he loved me that’s for sure.”

He was silent for a few minutes, before gesturing to an area not too far from where they were sitting, “That’s where he fell.”

“What?”

He shrugged and got up, “Your dad and I didn’t get along most of the time, but I knew him better than most. Yes, he loved your mother,” he sighed, “I know what I say is going to sound like I’m trying to make you forgive him, but listen, Nasha, no matter what the history books say, your dad was not the type of person to sacrifice himself.” He stretched his back, shocking himself when it cracked loudly, “I watched that film that I heard your mom sent to your school; Greige said it was horrific.”

She shrugged, “Never finished it.”

“It’s not easy to watch.” He sighed, “But if you do watch it, you’ll see just how desperate your dad was to get back to you back then. There’s no way he’d sacrifice himself. The idiot was too selfish.”

“I’m not going to watch it.” Nasha sighed, dropping her gaze from the sky to the ground.

He sighed, “Come with me.”

“What?”

He began walking off without even giving her the closest thing to an answer, as if he just expected her to get up and follow him. She did, but still. It felt like he was using his power as an adult and general on her, she groaned. He wasn’t going to tell her anything, was he? This was one of the reasons she hated talking with Greige’s dad. She trudged behind him, wondering why she felt like she had to follow him, when he didn’t give her any real explanation. The only thing she could think about was their conversation before. Why were all of the adults in her life trying to convince her to change her mind over her dad? They all said they weren’t trying to change her mind, but they still would do things as if they wanted her to.

On one hand, she understood that they had known her dad for longer than she had, but he wasn’t their dad, he was hers. She had the right to say and think whatever crap she wanted to about that man. She had the right to curse at him for breaking his promise, to be grateful he got the just karma he deserved for breaking it, too. He-

“This is where he fell.” Gray interrupted her thoughts as he stood in front of a crater.

“My dad?” she asked, looking down at it.

Gray shook his head, and looked down at his leg, cursing as the foot he had just created had already begun melting, “No, the enemy.”

She looked down at his dripping foot, before back at the crater, the ground they were standing on was a bit warmer than the other areas. She glanced back at the base that she had been passing, this crater wasn’t very far from it. It was blocked off so nobody could actually go into it, but she kicked a rock under the fence and watched as it tumbled down the slope. “Why’s it so warm over here?”

Gray let out a soft chuckle, “So, you’ve noticed it too? I wondered if you would.”

“What? Why? The ground is very obviously warmer, besides, your foot is melting.”

He sighed, “Yeah, but… if you had your father’s power you wouldn’t have been able to tell.”

“Why?” she asked, “Cause my dad couldn’t feel heat?”

He shook his head, “No, your dad could, he just chose to ignore it most of the time because he could generate heat even hotter.” He placed a hand on the barricade, “But, he couldn’t feel his own heat if from his power.”

She frowned, “That makes no sense.”

Gray shrugged, “Well, I don’t feel the cold from my ice, so it makes sense to me.” He looked down at the crater, “You want to know why it’s still warm over here?”

She shook her head, “Not really, it’s probably just from the force of whatever caused the crater.”

“You’re smart like your mom, too,” Gray sighed, before adding, “You’re right. It is still hot from the force that caused the crater, but this crater appeared eight years ago, when the enemy had been defeated.”

She groaned, “So?”

“So, your father used so much pent up power on the enemy that the crater caused by the fall is still generating that heat.” Gray sighed, “Nobody expected him to die back then.”

She rolled her eyes, “Nobody expected it? It was a suicide mission. He sacrificed himself, and he wasn’t even part of the military at the time. He was retired, he shouldn’t have been on the field. He chose to come to battle, the bastard.”

Gray laughed, “Yeah, he didn’t think things through all the time, but…” he bent down and picked up a rock, turning it around in his hand, it had burn marks on it, “we still relied on him when he showed up.” he tossed the rock into the crater, “The idiot was losing his hearing, which is awful for dragon-kin, you can ask your uncle Gajeel or aunt Wendy about that, but even so, he showed up because he heard your mom screaming.”

“So, you’re saying it’s my mom’s fault?” Nasha sighed, “My mom already blames herself for it, you don’t need to blame her, too. It wasn’t her fault, that man chose to abandon us.”

“I wouldn’t say abandon, I’d say unexpected departure.” Gray leaned on the railing staring into the crater, “But, being in this heat reminds me of the idiot.”

“I thought you said you hated him.”

He shook his head, “No, we didn’t get along, that’s for sure, but I didn’t hate him. When he had disappeared for two months a little while after the war had kicked up again, morale dropped tremendously. It was like the enemy knew what they needed to do to get us to falter. Your dad…” he shook his head, “No, that’ll just sound like I’m trying to get you to forgive him.” He sighed, “I understand you, though. I lost my dad during the war, too.”

She leaned on the railing, and looked up at him. Greige definitely took more after his dad than he did his mom. “Are you empathising with me?”

He shrugged, “Kind of. I hated my dad, too, for not coming back, dying in battle. It didn’t help that I was suddenly promoted to General of the Defense Corps after he passed either. Didn’t have enough time to grieve properly before having to rebuild the ice wall.”

“It’s not the same thing-”

“I know.” Gray answered, “When he passed I was at least twelve years older than you were when your dad passed, so I understand that it takes a toll on you. But, Nasha, despite being more mature, despite having a deeper understanding of what happened, I still hated him for a bit, too. How could he just leave like that? Abandon me like that? My mom had passed before the war had begun so I was completely by myself. Even my mentor and drill sergeant had passed in the war. Yes, during the war, you get used to people dying around you, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. When my dad died, due to the wall being breached, I hated him for a long time.”

She sighed, “But you’re saying you don’t now?”

He shrugged, and pushed himself off the railing, “I can’t say I don’t hate how he left, but I don’t hate him anymore for it. Sure, it feels like those promises to always stay and protect are empty promises, but in times of war, it’s not unheard of for them to be broken. So many people lost people they cared about during the war-”

“So I’m not special?” She groaned.

“No,” Gray ruffled her hair, “I’m saying there are so many people who can relate to what you’re going through. There were also so many people who cared about your dad and were devastated when he died like that, but a lot of us had to bury those emotions because we were still at war. It didn’t mean that we didn’t miss him. Anyone who witnessed it beats themselves up about it, saying that they should have stopped him.”

“You’re trying to get me to forgive him.”

He turned away from the crater, and looked up at the sky, “Maybe because all of us blame ourselves for it, even though we know he was just being selfish as usual. For a while Laxus locked himself up, because he felt like he sent him to his death.”

“Laxus?” Nasha repeated.

Gray nodded, “I told you, the history books don’t tell you everything.”

She rolled her eyes, “So what? He still wasted all his power and died because of it.”

“He was shot.” Gray answered, poking her forehead, “Right here.”

She took a step back, “So? That doesn’t change anything.”

“Maybe to you it doesn’t, but it does change the fact that he didn’t plan on sacrificing himself.” He shrugged, “Had a plan and everything.” He sighed, “Told Happy to catch him, cause he couldn’t fly, even though Happy could barely fly back then in the first place.” He gave her a look before he began limping off, “If he planned to die, he wouldn’t have asked Happy to catch him after he was launched into the air.”

She watched as he limped over to where they had been sitting before, quite a few yards away, and started mending his foot with his ice again. She turned back around and stared into the crater. Now that she was told it was his heat, it was beginning to feel familiar. She bit her lip as memories of his warm embrace filled her head. How she would sneak into his room and snuggle in her parents’ bed with him, just to be near him. Memories how she used to fake falling asleep on the couch so that he’d try to pick her up in his arm to take her to her bed, only to instead choose to adjust her position so that she was sleeping on him. She groaned. Maybe she shouldn’t have come out here. She had never come this way, and had intended to clear her mind, but instead, here she was thinking about him some more.

She dropped to her knees, getting closer to the warmth of the ground that was left behind from him. Yes, she hated him. She had to hate him. However, her conversation with Greige’s father was making her doubt her reasons to hate him. He betrayed her, broke his promise, he wasn’t going to come back. He knew he wasn’t going to come back. He had to have known he wasn’t going to come back, or else, she’d be hating him over an accident instead of an intent. He broke his promise. He broke his promise. Nothing could change that. It didn’t matter if he had sacrificed himself or if he was shot in the head, he was dead, and that meant he broke his promise.

Was it a quick death? If he was shot? Was it a slow death? Did he at least apologize before he died for breaking his promise? If he had roared loud enough, she was sure she’d hear him, even if she was in the bunker, and even if she didn’t hear her mom scream, like her dad did, she was sure she’d be able to hear him roar an apology if he was going to die. He didn’t though, which meant he broke his promise on purpose, right? Right?

It had been years since he died, new information about it now didn’t change anything, how could it change anything? He wasn’t here to make it better. He wasn’t going to just suddenly come back and tell her that everything was okay. How was he supposed to do that? He was dead. He isn’t here. Always must not mean always to him, or else he wouldn’t have left her in the first place. She wasn’t his top priority. Her mom was. Her mom was his top priority, so of course he wouldn’t have cared that he broke his promise to her, right? Even if he broke his promise to her mom, too, he… She groaned, and stared up at the sky, “I hate you.” She had to. She had to hate him. She had been hating him for so long, there was nothing else she could feel for him.

Her hair was pushed out of her face, and tucked behind her ear as she stuffed her face with food. This was one of the best birthdays she had had in a while. Her mom was actually home for once for it, too. She smiled, staring at the seven candles on her birthday cake, counting them over and over again in her head, as if confirming that she had finally turned seven years old. She didn’t care if she didn’t get birthday presents like Larima and Garnet did on their birthday, or get a fancy pool party like Greige did on his birthday, she had both her mom and her dad in the house next to her.

“What’d you wish for?” her mom asked, leaning forward after she blew out the candles.

“Ayy,” her dad spoke up first, “Come on, Luce, you know if you say your wish out loud it won’t come true.”

She smiled, honestly, there wasn’t anything better than having both her parents right here in front of her. As long as it could stay like this forever, nothing else mattered. She gleefully looked at the cake as her mom pulled it away from her so that she could cut it.

“That’s silly, nobody actually believes that, Natsu.” her mom bickered back.

Her dad started pulling out the candles, giving them to her so that she could lick off the frosting, “Never hurts to be careful. You’re the one who told me that, too, babe.”

Her mom rolled her eyes, “Don’t give her the candles, it’s not healthy.”

“Why?” Nasha and her dad asked at the same time.

Her mom groaned, “Have you two been eating the frosting off the candles this whole time?”

Her dad shrugged, “She’s a dragon, Luce, she can eat things your human stomach can’t handle.”

“Yeah, Mommy, I’m a dragon!” Nasha exclaimed, grabbing one of the frosting covered candles from her dad.

“She’s not a full dragon, Natsu.” Her mom groaned, and snatched the candle out of her daughter’s hand, “No, you’re not eating the frosting. You’re gonna get a huge slice of cake, anyway.”

“It’s wasting food if you don’t eat it.” Her dad countered, sucking the frosting off of the bottom of the candles, “And it's a birthday tradition.”

“Birthday tradition?” Her mom sighed, “Yeah, I would let you do it, but I never did that. You might accidentally eat the wax.”

“A little wax won’t hurt anyone.” Her dad laughed, and grabbed the candle back from her mom, handing it to her, “Besides, she deserves to have the first taste of her cake.”

She smiled, accepting the candle. Even if her dad had already licked the other six of them clean of their frosting, she still wanted to lick the candle, too. She stuck the bottom of it in her mouth before her mom could stop her. Cleaning it of any sweetness that was on it, before taking it back out of her mouth, and putting it on the plate where five of the candles sat. She counted them again. Including her new one, there were only six. Where’d the seventh one go? She looked up at her dad, “Daddy.”

“Yeah?” he replied, “No, Luce, it’s got to be a bigger slice, she’s not six anymore.”

She pointed at the candles, “How come there aren’t seven candles?”

He looked down at the plate, “Huh, that’s weird,” he smirked, picking one of them up, “I’m sure we put seven candles on your cake.”

“Natsu-” her mom interrupted.

“But I guess this means your six again.” her dad finished, before taking a bite of the wax candle. “Or five now, right?”

She gasped, she knew it, her dad was eating the candles. He had done it on his birthday, too. She looked over to her mom, eagerly pointing at him, “Mommy, Daddy’s eating my candles.”

Her mom looked up from the cake, “You’re eating the candles, Natsu?”

He put up his empty hand, and gave her a wide smile, “Why would I eat wax, Luce?”

She frowned, and pulled the slice of cake she cut onto a plate, placing it in front of Nasha, “I swear, Natsu, if you’re eating the candles.”

He leaned over the table, picking up three of the candles, and snapping them between his teeth, as if to taunt her mom, “I’d never eat the wax.”

Her mom frowned, “Then where are the other five candles?”

He looked down at the plate, “What? Only two candles? I guess that means our baby just turned two, doesn’t it?”

“That’s not how that works.” Nasha said at the same time as her mom.

Her dad laughed, and picked up the last two candles, lighting them aflame, “I only see two candles, though.”

“Natsu…” her mom sighed, before giving up, she blew out the candles, “I guess she’s two then.”

Her dad smiled, and put the last two candles in his mouth, “Newborn.”

She shook her head, “Daddy, I’m seven now. I’m a big girl.”

“I thought you said you were a big girl last year.” her dad laughed, accepting the slice of cake from her mom.

“I just thought I was a big girl then, but I’m a big girl now.” she stated, taking a bite of her giant slice of cake.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You outdid yourself with this cake, Luce.” her dad stated.

“I tried.” her mom replied, taking a small bite of her small slice of cake. Her mom never ate servings that were the size of her dad’s. Sometimes she thought that her servings were larger than her mom’s.

Her dad smiled, “Better than the one you gave me for my birthday that one time.”

She reached over the table and slapped her dad, “Natsu, that was the first time I ever baked.”

He laughed, “Still, it was salty, really salty.”

“You still ate it.”

Nasha leaned forward, “How salty was it?”

Her dad booped her nose, “You know those rock caves inside the mountain?”

“Yeah…”

“Saltier.”

“You’ve licked the cave walls?” Her mom asked, dumbfounded.

Her dad gasped, “What? We would never do such a thing, who would ever lick cave walls?”

Her mom frowned, “Nasha, did you lick cave walls?”

Nasha gasped, mimicking her dad, “What? We would never do such a thing!”

“Nasha.”

She caved, poking her fork in her slice of cake, “Yeah, we licked the cave walls. Daddy said it was okay.”

“Licking cave walls is okay? Since when? You could have gotten infected-”

“Oh, please, Luce, it’s not a big deal. Those caves are the ones they mine for the salt anyway.” He sighed, twirling his fork in his hand. “And your cake was probably more dangerous than those walls, anyway.”

“Natsu Dragneel.” Her mom groaned.

“Heartfilia~.” Her dad added, and put up his hand, showing her the ring, “I’m married, get it right, babe.”

She sighed, “I should’ve just taken your last name.”

He shook his head, “But then our daughter wouldn’t have both last names, now would she?”

“She still could have.”

He shook his head, “No, no, no, ‘Heartfilia Dragneel’ doesn’t sound as good as ‘Dragneel Heartfilia.’”

“I still think it does.”

He frowned. “Okay,” he turned to her, “Birthday girl, whichever one you think sounds better we’ll have your name changed to, got it?”

“What about you, Daddy?” she asked, “Are Daddy and Mommy going to change their last names, too?”

Her dad shook his head, “Daddy’s not gonna change his. I’m still going to be a Dragneel Heartfilia. I don’t know about Mommy, though.”

Her mom pulled away his empty plate, “Don’t have our daughter choose something like that.”

“Why?” he asked, “If she likes one name better than the other, why can’t she change it?”

“Natsu…”

“I like Daddy’s name!” Nasha exclaimed, “Daddy and I have the same initials!”

“Right?” Her dad smiled, and ruffled her hair, “I told you, Luce, it sounds way better.”

“Right.” Lucy sighed.

“NDH, NDH, and…” Nasha stopped, “Mommy, what’s your middle name?”

Her dad laughed, “Mommy never told you?”

“Ashley.” Lucy sighed, “And why does that matter?”

“LAH.” Nasha added, confidently.

“Lah…” her dad giggled, “Lah, lah, lah…”

“Natsu, I swear-”

“Don’t swear, there’s a kid in the room.”

“Yeah, Mommy, there’s a kid in the room!” Nasha cheerfully echoed.

“Well, it’s still better than being the end.” She smirked.

“Oi. I changed that.” Her dad grumbled, “Eat some more cake, Luce.”

“The end?” Nasha repeated.

“Yeah,” her mom smiled, “Your dad used to have ‘END’ as his initials.”

“E?” Nasha muttered, “Daddy, your name didn’t start with an ‘N’?”

He sighed, and shook his head, “Long long long long long long long long long long long long long long long long time ago, baby. Not important.”

“Still had it.”

Her dad shook his head, “I just went back to my original name, Luce, you know that.”

Her mom shrugged, “Doesn’t change that you did have it, though.”

He groaned, “Don’t remind me, and you probably went through a time like that, too.”

She shrugged, “Sure, we all have a phase like that growing up, but I never changed my name to match it.”

“What?” Nasha scooted closer in her seat.

Her mom turned to her, putting up a hand to whisper to her daughter, “Your daddy used to be like uncle Gajeel.”

“Hey.” her dad interrupted, “I wasn’t like Gajeel. I didn’t do the piercings.”

Her mom shrugged, “Dyed your hair though.”

“Only a shade darker.”

“Still.” Her mom laughed, “I’m surprised they let you join the military when you looked like that.”

“Gajeel looked worse and he joined,” Her dad sighed, “and besides, I got rid of everything, and changed my name back, before I started training, anyway.”

“I want to see what Daddy looked like!” Nasha exclaimed.

“Do you?” her mom exclaimed just as excitedly, “I’m sure I have photos somewhere~.”

“Lucy… stop.”

“Why? Did you burn them?”

He groaned, “I will if you take them out.”

“Where are they, Mommy?” Nasha asked, jumping out of her chair.

“I think they’re in my closet.” her mom muttered, getting up from her seat.

“Don’t get those photos.” Her dad bickered, “Lucy, I swear.”

Her mom snapped around, “Don’t swear, there’s a kid in the room.”

Nasha nodded, “Yeah, Daddy, there’s a kid in the room.”

He groaned, “I was only thirteen at the time, Luce.”

“I know,” her mom smirked, “but if you look at me at thirteen, and you at thirteen, you’ve got to wonder how I ended up choosing a loser like you.”

“Daddy’s not a loser.” Nasha muttered.

Her mom smiled, “I know, not anymore, come on, let’s go find those photos!”

“You just love teasing me, don’t you?” her dad muttered, but didn’t get up from the table to stop them.

“It’s not like you don’t tease me, babe.” her mom stuck her tongue out at him, and opened the bedroom door.

“Nasha,” her dad whispered, waving her to come over to him.

She obliged, glancing back at her mom for a moment, before going over to her dad, “Yes, Daddy?”

“You should find your mom’s pictures of when she was your age while you’re in there.”

“When Mommy was my age?”

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips, “You should, for sure. She was adorable, just like you.”

“Mommy looked like me?” she asked, “But I look like Daddy.”

He smiled, “I know, but you’d be surprised how much you look like your mom. You should find them. I’m sure your mom would love to look at old photos of herself, too.”

Nasha smiled, “Are you going to help us look, Daddy?”

He shook his head, “Nah, your mom is telling me not to move while she’s here.”

She clicked her tongue and shook her head, “That’s why you should have worn your brace while she was gone.”

“Hey.” He poked her forehead, “She only knew I didn’t because you told her, you sneaky dragon.”

She smiled, and spun on her heel, “Mommy! Daddy’s teasing me again!”

“Natsu, don’t tease your daughter!” her mom called from the bedroom.

She giggled, and hurried into her parents’ bedroom to help her mom look for the photos of her dad.

“So,” her mom asked as she pulled the tub down from the top shelf in her closet, “What was your wish?”

Nasha hurriedly opened up the tub to look at the multitudes of photographs that were inside. Most of them were in black and white, but there were a couple that were a bit more brown in color. There were even some of her when she was a baby, too. She looked up at her mom as she pulled out an envelope of photos, “Is Daddy’s picture in here?”

Her mom sat down next to her, “I don’t know, let’s check.”

She opened it up, and spread the pictures out on the ground in her mom’s and dad’s room. There were a lot of pictures, but all of them were wearing the same clothes. She frowned, they looked like the clothes that hung on her dad’s side of the closet that he never wore.

“What was your wish, Nasha?” her mom repeated the question, as she collected the military photos and put them back into the envelope.

Nasha looked up at her mom, “If I tell you, will it not come true?”

Her mom shook her head, “I’ll keep it a secret so it will come true, still.”

She got up to her feet, and whispered in her mom’s ear, “I want to be with Mommy and Daddy forever!”

It was too early in the morning for someone to be ringing their doorbell. She had gotten back home so late, last night, too. She groaned, turning over in her bed, covering her head with her pillow, but the ringing just continued, repeatedly. Was her mom going to answer the door or what? She sighed, pulling her pillow off her head. Who rang a doorbell that much anyway? She kicked off her blankets, and opened the door to her room, only to see her mom hurrying over to the door wrapping her robe tightly around her nightgown.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She exclaimed.

Nasha leaned against the entryway to the hallway, and watched her mom answer the door. She seemed so flustered. The people at the door were wearing military uniforms. Did the military really have to ring the bell so much in the morning? No care for people’s sleep, did they? They could have called the phone from the base, why did they have to visit their house. She hated seeing those uniforms. She groaned, rolling her eyes as her mom opened the door.

“My apologies,” she stated.

“No, General Heartfilia, we’re greatly sorry for intruding so early in the morning.” they replied.

“Please come in.” She gestured for them to come inside, “Nasha, can you get them some tea?”

Nasha sighed, and begrudgingly complied, heading into the kitchen to boil some water while her mom made herself look presentable. She sighed, watching the kettle, waiting for the steam to burst from it. She had the two mugs already prepped with the tea bags, and she tapped her finger on the counter, desperate for those soldiers to just leave already. She looked over to them as they sat on the couch in the living room. They were trying to be respectful, but their eyes kept wandering around the room. Staring at the pictures on the wall, and glancing over to that shrine her mom had for her dad. They also stole a couple glances at that damned rocking chair, too. She groaned, and poured the hot water into the mugs the second it started to sing.

“You gonna keep staring?” She asked, putting the two mugs down on the coffee table, not caring about the coasters, even if her mom would yell at her about it.

“Apologies.” one of them stated, but the other one kept silent.

“Who are you guys anyway?”

“We’re part of the logistics corps,” they replied.

She groaned, and made her way back to the hallway as her mom came out of her room, fully dressed, and her hair neatly pulled back away from her face. She sat down in the loveseat next to the couch, “I’m sorry for keeping you sirs waiting.”

Nasha rolled her eyes, her mom was being way too polite, as if forgetting that she was far above their rank. She leaned back against the wall as she watched their conversation. She didn’t have anything to do, and she would be eavesdropping anyway if she was in her room. Doing homework was more boring than watching some military personnel after all. She noticed a large oddly shaped package that they had propped up gently against the side of the couch. One of them kept glancing at it, carefully touching it with their fingers, as they conversed.

“General Heartfilia, you were informed the logistics corps were excavating the remains of the concentration camps in enemy territories, right?”

Her mom nodded, they had been finding new camps for the past eight years. Nasha sighed, one of the reasons Seig’s dad hadn’t come back was because he was out doing that. She wasn’t sure why it was the logistics corps that were doing the excavating though. She crossed her arms as the soldiers continued.

“General Scarlet has told me that Officer Fernandes is in charge of the investigations. Did something come up?” Lucy asked.

They looked over at each other, “We believe we might have found the camp that your late husband was kept in.”

Her mom’s eyes widened. Nasha groaned. Not only had she had to discover that stupid film about her father during that time, but now they were talking about finding the camp that he had apparently been kept in during that torture he talked about? The world really seemed to be wanting her to feel guilty about hating him, didn’t it?

“You sure?” her mother asked, she looked slightly confused on why they were telling her, as if they wanted to make her relive those horrid memories.

They pulled out a brown envelope, and pulled out a folder from it, “This is just a photocopy of what we had found, and it’s a bit damaged, because it seemed they tried to burn the facility down after losing the war, but, that’s General Dragneel’s name and number, isn’t it?”

Her mom opened up the folder, and stared down at whatever was written inside, “Yeah, that’s correct.”

They looked disappointed that it was the right number and name. She took a step forward to say something, letting them know that whatever they were doing here was only going to cause her mother more trauma. She might not like her dad, but after her conversation with auntie Levy, she didn’t exactly want her mom to suffer anymore, especially when she was so comforting and patient with her.

“Why… Why are you bringing this to me?” she asked, “you could have checked through our databases for his number.”

“We… found something.” one of them stated.

“Originally we thought it would only bring more trouble to you, and many of us were against it, but Officer Fernandes was insistent that we bring it to you.”

Her mom looked a bit confused, and a bit broken. It was as if she was already anticipating something horrible to be handed to her. Instead, though, she kept her composure, “If it was that important, I’m sure Officer Fernandes had his reasons.”

They pulled up the large package, pushing aside the mugs that she had brought them, and putting that large, oddly shaped package down on the coffee table. It hung off the edges, and it had a slight bend to it. There were some parts of the package that were pointy, too. It made her wonder what exactly was inside of it. She felt like a child on holiday, eager to open the gifts that lay under the tree. She pushed herself off the wall that she leaned back onto, to allow herself to peek at what they had brought her mother.

Her mom stared at the package, and then back up at them, “This… what is this?”

“I apologize for any trouble opening this package might bring to you, however, you were his wife, and so… Officer Fernandes said that these belong to you now.”

Her mom’s brow furrowed, and she noticed her lip quiver, as she carefully began to unwrap the package that was on their coffee table. She didn’t even lift enough of the brown paper off of it, before she dropped her hand and cradled her mouth, curling over herself, shaking. What on earth was inside that package? She inched forward.

Her mom shakily placed a hand on the package, keeping it closed, as if she knew her daughter was trying to peek at it. She looked up to the military personnel, “Please… leave…”

They both stood up, and bowed, taking the brown folder and envelope that they had brought with them. “Then we’ll be on our way. Our deepest condolences, General Heartfilia.”

Nasha watched in silence as they collected their caps, bowed to her mom again, before turning around and walking out of her house. She stared through the window on the door as they got into their automotive and drove off. She snapped her attention back to her mother, whose hand was gripping so tightly onto that brown paper of the package. She was still shaking, holding her mouth with her other hand.

“Mom? Are you okay?” she asked, kneeling next to her mom, looking up at her as she sat on the loveseat.

Her mom looked at her, tears in her eyes, shook her head softly before replying, “I’ll be fine.”

She looked over to the package, “What… what could they have brought for you to-”

“No, Nasha, don’t open it.” Her mom interrupted tightening her grip on the paper.

“But…” Nasha groaned, “Mom, if it was brought for you because of your relationship to him, then doesn’t that mean that I deserve to see what it is, too?”

Her mom frowned, “Nasha… you… you can’t see this.”

“Why not?”

She took her hand off of her face, and combed her fingers through her daughter’s hair, “I… I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Hurt me?” Nasha groaned, “How would opening this hurt me?”

Her mom cupped her face in her hands, turning her back to face her, tears still evident in her eyes, “It’s your fathers. I don’t want to hurt you, and he wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“How could a package hurt me, Mom? Besides, I deserve to know what it is, especially if you’re crying like this.”

Her mom frowned, and dropped her hands into her lap, “It’s gruesome…”

“I watched that film you sent to my school and now you don’t want me to see something because it’s gruesome?” She turned around and grabbed the paper, “I think I can handle this.”

Her mom placed a hand on her shoulder, “I know you can’t.”

“You don’t know me, then, Mom. I’m much stronger than you think I am.”

Her mom sighed, dropping her head, “Nasha, please… don’t open it.”

“Just because you can’t open it, doesn’t mean I can’t.” She tore at the brown paper. Uncovering whatever was held inside.

Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. What in the world was this? A hesitant hand as she reached out and touched the scales. Honestly, it was beautiful. Reptile-like, but beautiful. This was her dad’s? It… her eyes stopped at one spot on what she was seeing. She could hear her mom shaking, trying to hold herself together behind her. The spot she had found her eyes focused on was bloody and burned. Even if the blood dried a long time ago, anybody could tell that it was blood. It looked like it had been attached to something there, and had been torn off. There were even bones visible through all of the dried blood and dead muscles. She backed up, and looked down at this package. No. It was beginning to look familiar to her. The little spikes at the end, the red scales, the way they folded over themselves, the veins along the webbing. Her own memories of them were blurry, barely existing, but she had seen photos of them. Photos of them on who they belonged to. She felt herself wanting to hurl. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and hurried off to the bathroom.

He had lost them. Everyone knew he had lost them, so, why were they here? He said that they weren’t coming back. That they were never coming back, so why were they right in front of her? Why were they on the coffee table? She was grateful he lost them. She yelled at his ashes saying that it was karma for what he did to her, so why did they have to be brought right in front of her? She didn’t want to see them, she didn’t want to see all the damage that had been done to them before they had been torn off of him. She looked at herself in the mirror, wiping off her face, as she tried to compose herself. She didn’t care, she couldn’t care. She took a deep breath, as that image appeared in her mind again. New memories that she had long since thought she had lost started to float into her mind. Memories of her grabbing so desperately onto him as he did a deep dive in the air, before gliding with her on top of him, strapped to him to make sure she didn’t fall off. Memories of her running a washcloth over them as he praised her for doing such a great job. The very memory of when she wanted to clean them, to cheer him up, and they weren’t there. She shook her head, those memories didn’t matter. They couldn’t matter.

She walked out of the bathroom, trying to maintain herself, but her eyes locked onto her mother who was carefully caressing them with tears cascading down her cheeks. She found herself hiccupping as her mother’s gentle hand carefully pulled those wings to her chest, knelt next to the coffee table, and shaking as she tried to stop herself from letting her wails out. She didn’t remember her father with them all that much, but her mother did. For the majority of the time that they had known each other, he had those wings after all. Her mom used to tell stories about how he would take her up into the sky when she was little, and she snuck into her parents’ room at night. They had been like bedtime stories, dreams of what could be, but never reality. Seeing her mom hold onto his wings so desperately, as if they were him, or at least still attached to him, made her drop to her knees, sliding against the wall. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he didn’t deserve to have his wings ripped from his back. She heard her mom’s sniffles, heard her cries, even as she tried to keep herself from making a noise, not knowing that her daughter, who she tried to stay strong in front of, had already come out of the bathroom, and already saw her vulnerable.

If he was going to finally come back, couldn't it be him, and not his damned wings. He said they were never coming back, that he'd never have them again, but here they were. She was told he'd never come home, but where was he? He said he wanted them back, and here they were. She wanted him back, and where was he? Her mom was crying as she held his wings close to her, just like she had been when she had seen her clutching his scarf eight years ago. He was a liar through and through, he couldn't keep any of his promises… she hiccupped, tears streaming down her face as she tried to hold in her gagging from now noticing the smell, having been trapped in that brown paper. She didn't want his wings. She could care less about his wings. She wanted him. Give her her Daddy back.

“Nasha…” she heard someone whispering in her ear, and she turned around in her bed, “You have to get up and get ready for school.”

“Five more minutes, Daddy…”

“Nasha.” She was gently rocked back and forth. Her dad didn’t wake her up like this… She rolled over, to see her mom’s red eyes looking down at her. Her mom must have been crying again.

“When did you come home, Mommy?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

Her mom smiled, “It’s been a few months, Nasha.”

She yawned, “I don’t want to go to school.”

“I understand, baby, but you have to. The schools have finally opened back up again, so-”

“I’m walking to school with Daddy.” She frowned, looking at her mom at the side of her bed.

Her mom smiled, but her eyes looked like they were full of pain, “I’m going to be taking you to school, remember?”

Oh. That’s right. Her mom said her dad was never returning home. She saw that her dad was never going to come back home. She had been there, when everyone came in, in a seemingly never ending line to pay their respects to him, and offer their condol… something to her and her mom. She had decided back then that she wouldn’t cry for a man like that. She rubbed the rest of her sleep out of her eyes, and frowned.

“I’d rather have Mommy take me to school, anyway.”

“Yeah?” her mom asked, “I’ve picked out two outfits for you to choose from, they’re at the foot of your bed.” She got up, and made her way out of the room.

She looked down at the bed, one outfit was black, like the clothes her mom was still wearing, she hadn’t changed that outfit color ever since she had come home. She wasn’t leaving all the time anymore, and she was told that it was because they had won. She grabbed the more colorful outfit her mom chose, choosing to wear that instead of that black outfit. She wasn’t stupid, she knew why her mom was still wearing that black outfit. Many people would wear black for a while when they lost someone in their family. Usually, they stop after a month, her mom said it was a custom that they needed to do, but her mom kept wearing it afterward. She didn’t want to be wearing black, cause then it would look like she was mourning over that man, and she didn’t want to do that.

She looked down at herself in the mirror, the little flame detailings at the bottom of the dress were quite pretty, but a certain someone’s face flashed through her mind when she noticed them. She groaned, and tossed the clothes off of herself, digging through her drawers to find something that didn’t remind her of him. Satisfied with her choice, turning around in the mirror to look over herself in the outfit that her mom didn’t choose, she walked out of her room.

“Mommy,” she announced, causing her mom to look up from the book she was reading as she drank her coffee.

“Yes, baby?” Her mom asked, slowly taking in what her daughter was wearing, “Baby, those clothes don’t look good together.”

She frowned, “It’s better than that dress that you picked out.”

Her mom shook her head, “Honey, that skirt is neon green floral, and you’re wearing a pastel plaid blouse. I can’t let you leave the house like that.”

Nasha folded her arms, “This is my fashion choice, Mommy, you have your black clothes, I have my colorful clothes.”

Her mom placed her mug down, and a bookmark in her book. “You’re going to embarrass yourself if you go out like that, Nasha. Did you not like the dress that I picked out for you?”

She shook her head, “That dress had an ugly pattern.”

Her mom raised a brow, “I thought you loved fire patterns, though.”

Nasha groaned, “That was when I was eight, Mommy, I’m nine, now.”

“You aren’t nine yet, your birthday isn’t for another month.” Her mom sighed, “Is it because of your dad?”

Nasha groaned, “I’m not wearing a black dress like you.”

Her mom made her way into her daughter’s room, “You’ve made a mess in here, honey, how about you just wear this black skirt and white shirt. That’s a safe choice.”

“Then I’m wearing black.”

Her mom sighed, “Well, if we put the black skirt with your plaid blouse, it’ll look pretty good. You can wear your favorite clogs with it, too.”

Nasha frowned, “But then I’m still wearing black. I don’t want to wear black.”

“And I don’t know where you got such a hideous skirt,” her mom sighed, gesturing to the neon green skirt she was wearing. “Let’s see, we’re short on time, Nasha, so how about you wear this pastel blue dress instead.”

“But that dress was one that-”

“Your dad bought for you?” Her mom asked, finishing her sentence, “I’m aware, but it doesn’t have the fire patterns, and it’s not a black mourning dress. It’s just a simple spring dress that’s in the color blue.”

“But-”

“You don’t want to be reminded of your dad?” her mom asked, her voice was shaking, but it was obvious she was trying so hard to keep it together.

She grabbed the dress out of her mom’s hands, “I’ll wear this dress, it’s Mommy’s favorite color.”

“I don’t want to force you to wear it, Nasha,” her mom countered.

Nasha looked down at her clothes that she was wearing, and shook her head, “No, Mommy’s right, Larima would tell me that I made a horrible outfit choice if I went to school like this.”

Her mom sighed, and kissed her daughter’s forehead, “I’ve got a bagel for you with a thick layer of cream cheese, just how you like it. You’ll have to eat it on the way to school, okay?”

She didn’t know why her mom didn’t hate that man like she did. He broke his promise to her, and didn’t come back. He made her mom cry, too. A lot. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she didn’t tell her dad it was okay for him to go. If she hadn’t reassured him that she would be safe in the hidden room. If she had held onto his shirt a little tighter. If she had broken his brace, so that he couldn’t run. What would have happened if he was still with her? Would she have both her Mommy and Daddy, or would she not have her mom instead? She attempted to zip up the dress on her own, but dropped her hands as she looked at it in the mirror. Her eyes focused on that unruly hair of hers, and how akin it was to that man’s hair. How she used to be so proud that their hair was the same.

“Mommy,” she said, coming out of her room.

“Need help zipping up?” her mom asked, and waved her daughter over to the table where she had returned to drinking her coffee and reading her book.

“Can I get my hair like yours?”

“Like mine?” her mom asked.

“Yeah, I don’t like my hair.” She turned around, with her dress fully zipped, “I want it to be straight like yours.”

Her mom’s face looked like she was about to cry, but instead, she smiled, “For your ninth birthday, I’ll take you to a salon, how about that?”

She smiled, “And can I get new clothes, too?”

Her mom patted her head, “Yes, we can get you new clothes, too,” her voice sounded like it was about to break, “Your bagel is on the counter, wrapped in a napkin. Go get your bag, and I’ll wait for you in the automotive, okay?”

“Okay!” she smiled, and spun back around to get her backpack from her bedroom.

[“So, my little girl, Daddy will always protect you, always support you, and always love you. I know you'll do well, you've got your mom's brains. Love you my little dragon.” There was a pause before he continued, “Ah, am I stalling? I’m gonna play a game with you, okay? Tell my future self… me… Oh I don’t know, just be alone for this okay? When I talked to Levy, Larima’s and Garnet’s mommy-er mom about this, she said it'd be fun to guess what life is like in the future. Said something about having you write down everything that's true or false, and see how many I get right. Cana was pretty good at this kind of stuff, so if she's come back by then you should talk to her about future stuff.” he paused, “I'm running low on time? Oh, and I need to record for Lucy, too. Ugh, anyways, Nasha, I think it'd be fun! You should show me the list to see which ones I got right! 

I've got seven things that I think will have happened. The first one, is that probably by the time you're listening to this, the war will be over. Being in the military at a young age isn't fun, so I hope the war is over by now… then? The second thing… I bet we had a huge party and feast to celebrate the war ending, too. Big barbecue, and tons of good food and drinks. We probably celebrate every year, too, like we do for the equality campaign. 

The third thing is that I bet you're taller than your mom now. Your mom is pretty short, I'm certain you've gotten taller than her if you're in high school. Let's see… the fourth thing… hmm… ah! That's right! Happy! You probably ride Happy all the time now that the war is over! You used to love it when I took you for rides, so I'm sure riding Happy brings back that feeling.

Oh, and the fifth thing, I'm sure you've gotten yourself a little boyfriend… or girlfriend… if you're in high school. Your mom and I were almost dating when we were around that age, if it wasn't for the war. And for the sixth thing, I bet you don't like that ice punk’s kid. No way my daughter would like that runt. Ah, but if I'm wrong on that one, I'm sure I'm still supporting you two now. In the future? This is so hard, is it usually this hard to talk about the future? I've never really done this kind of thing before. Oh? What? No, Luce is better at this kind of thing than me. She's on the front lines, of course I couldn't bring her here. Besides, she doesn't know about that stuff I talked about earlier. Yeah, they both don't need to know. I don't want them to.

Ah, right! Nasha, my dragon, the seventh thing-”]

She shut it off. She wasn't sure why she had started listening to it again in the first place, but for some reason, she had found herself listening to it again. Maybe it truly was an accident that she had turned on the recorder, and maybe it was on purpose, it was true that she missed his voice after seeing his wings. Besides, he didn’t get anything right, except that the war was over. She groaned as she stared at the recorder. Her mom hadn’t left her room since receiving that package, and she was back to wearing all black all the time. She had only recently stopped doing that, too. It took her almost eight years to wear her pinks and blues again, and now, because of his stupid wings, she reverted back. Yet, here she was, listening to his voice, because she started missing it? When he had left them so abruptly the way he had?

The living room was empty, her mom had taken the wings with her to her bedroom. All that was left was that brown paper they had been wrapped in. She sighed, making her way over to it, to clean up the mess. As she picked up the paper, a couple of photographs fell out of it. She eyed them on the floor, but chose to just keep tidying up this mess before doing anything about it. Her mom was probably going to get a special chest or something to put his wings in, and keep it safely stored with the rest of his things, so she was certain she didn’t need any of this disgusting paper for them. She stuffed the paper into the garbage can, and heaved it outside to the dumpster. There was more in the can than she had anticipated, she must have forgotten to take it out last night.

Once the living room was fully clean again, she collapsed herself onto the loveseat, and stared up at the ceiling. One of the lights was flickering on the chandelier, it must be running out of magic power. They seriously needed to move to a better place, the magic power plant that ran this side of the neighborhood wasn’t big enough to match with how many new homes were being built. Slowly, she brought her attention back down to the floor where she had seen the pictures fall. She noticed a folder sitting on the coffee table, with a huge ‘classified’ stamp on the front of it. The pictures could wait for now, was this the folder and the file that they had shown her mother before giving her her father’s wings?

She picked it up with shaking hands, knowing that she shouldn’t be looking at something that says classified in such bold letters on the front of the folder. Carefully, she opened it up, to see a photo of her father, when he was younger, probably some time before she was born, paperclipped to a sheet of paper. There were more papers behind him, and her eyes focused on that name and number that her mother must have clarified. The photo, though, had a huge mark scratched across his face with a black marker, and she felt like he deserved that kind of treatment.

She placed that sheet of paper aside to see all of the sheets of paper that were with it. They looked to be photocopies of journal pages. Some of the writing was hard to make out, but she recognized that same number from that front sheet of paper that kept showing up repeatedly in those notes. One word caught her eye, though, and upon reading everything that followed, she knew exactly what these journal entries were. She quickly closed the folder, and stared at the front of it, recalling how those soldiers had said they had discovered the concentration camp that her father had been in. She didn’t need to know anything more than that. Her dad had talked in that film about what he had gone through, and it was horrific, and she hadn’t even seen the whole film. She didn’t want to see all of it, either, these sheets of paper were just confirming it all. Confirming how he lost his wings, his arm, and the ability to walk properly.

Honestly, when she was reading about the prisoners of war, she never fully understood why they didn’t just cave in, and give out the secrets. It was no real secret that that’s what her father had been. He came back home missing things he used to have, after all. Granted, not everybody knew he had been a prisoner of war, or maybe they just didn’t want to admit it. After all, how could a general become a prisoner of war? Ridiculous, right? It just went to show just how much her father was an untrustworthy man, and she still didn’t understand why they trusted him so much, why he ‘boosted morale’ as some of her mother’s friends would put it. Still, he should have just told them what they wanted to hear, then he wouldn’t have come back missing limbs and then he maybe wouldn’t have broken his promise the way that he did.

She picked up the pictures that were on the floor, a bit scared to see what they were, especially if the file folder had all of the documents it did have inside. What could these pictures have for them to be stuffed in the package with his wings? One of the pictures was smaller, like it was made to fit in a coat pocket, the other picture was a little bit larger. She looked at the smaller picture first, it was a picture of her mother and herself when she was a mere toddler. A smile so large and joyful, as her mother held her so gently but securely. The picture had a bit of blood stains on it, but nothing so severe that what had been photographed was damaged or unable to make out. She looked so happy in the picture, her mother looked so happy. It was probably the happiest she had ever seen her mother, well, except in the wedding photos. Genuine joy and excitement. Hopeful eyes and a loving stare at whoever was behind the camera, which no doubt was her father. Her own eyes were also so innocent and joyful, as if what was to happen next wasn’t a thought that could happen. How could it happen? Her father coming home looking so vastly different than when he left. She sighed, it was just her mother and her now, just like in the photo, but neither of them had eyes full of that much hope and joy.

She turned over the other photograph, and nearly gasped. Her father had his wings in the picture, but they were so brutally pinned up to the stone wall behind him, his hands cuffed and raised above his head, as it hung, hiding his face from view. He was on his knees, as if he had fallen, and despite the picture not being in color, like they were now, she didn’t need the color in order to know just how much blood was all over him. Despite the picture being so gruesome, despite it being so deprecating and dehumanizing of her father, she couldn’t bring her eyes away from it, like she had to when those photos had made their appearance when watching that film.

Her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she gently placed the humiliating picture of her father down, and tip-toed over to her mom’s bedroom door. Quietly, and slowly cracking it open, to see if her mom was asleep, she peeked inside the room. Her mother was fast asleep on her bed, her father’s wings laying atop the comforter beside her. It was honestly a little creepy to see her mother sleeping with the limbs of her dead father, even if dragon wings were said to never decay, simply because of how slowly they actually did decay, at least ten times slower than the other parts of the dragon’s body, and a dragon decayed even slower than a human, but it didn’t stop what she was seeing from being a little creepy. Then again, her mom was so connected with her dead father on some nights, that she would sleep with his photograph on his side of the bed. She never once saw her mother wake up on her father’s side of the bed, and all of her father’s clothes sat in the closet. Sometimes, she would come home to see her mother folding her father’s clothes, while doing the laundry. It sent shivers down her spine.

She pushed the door open a little wider, slowly, hoping that it wouldn’t creak. Her mom didn’t budge from her position on the bed. Her eyes were red and puffy though, which led Nasha to believe that she had cried herself to sleep, cradling the wings of the person that was no longer a part of their lives. She tip-toed over to the closet, and opened the door slowly, turning on the light, before closing it slowly behind her. She knew her mother must keep that box in here, this was where she kept all of her father’s things, in this walk-in closet. Apparently, it was such a large closet because her father said there ‘needs to be space for all of Mommy’s clothes,’ but based on her friend’s parents, uncle Gajeel and auntie Levy, it was so large, because of the wings on dragon-kin. They had lived in this same house since before she was born. Her mom said that it was the house they had gotten from the military upon getting married, a special bonus reserved for when both the bride and groom were generals in rank, and a gift from the Chairwoman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, she later found out.

On the upper shelves, that sat above the clothing racks, where her father’s shirts hung, were a few boxes, and a container that she knew was full of pictures. Beside that container was the box she was looking for. She glanced at the closed door, before grabbing the footstool that stayed beside her mother’s dresser, and placed it on the ground in front of her father’s shoes. It wasn’t technically meant to be stood on like this, more to sit on so you can put on your shoes; her mother had gotten it for her father so that he wouldn’t strain his leg when he had to put on his brace or shoes, but of course, that didn’t mean the two of them didn’t use it to reach high places.

The box was a bit heavier than she had originally anticipated, and her back arched a bit too far backwards, causing her to collapse onto the ground, knocking over the stool, and ruining her mother’s perfect organization of her father’s things. The box’s contents had spilled out when she fell, and she turned her eyes to the door, ears waiting to hear if her mother had woken up from her slumber. After staying silent on the floor, in the awkward position she had found herself in, for at least five minutes, she picked up all of the things that fell out of the box, and stuffed them back inside it. Grabbing the stool and putting it back where she had grabbed it from, before quietly opening up the closet door to peek at if her mother was still asleep. Thankfully, she was, though her position was different than it had been before.

She closed the closet door, and turned off the light, before tip-toeing out of the room, and closing her mother’s bedroom door behind her as she found herself in the living room again. She looked at the box in her arms, and quietly made her way to her own room. She placed it down on the floor, and grabbed a pair of gloves before opening it up. She knew she probably didn’t need to do this, but for some reason she felt her childlike spirit come back and she felt like she was investigating something top secret. Especially with the classified folder beside her on the ground.

Don’t get her wrong, she was definitely only doing this to learn more about what had happened in those camps, not because of her father. It would never be because of her father, he just happened to be the only guy who talked about it, after all. Even if what uncle Gray had said was playing in her head as she set up the mini panoptikon that auntie Erza had gotten for her for her sixteenth birthday, she wasn’t doing this to learn more about the general who was talking, she was doing this because she needed some clarification on what exactly happened in those camps, and why prisoners of war didn’t just give the secrets if they knew they were going to be tortured in the way that they were. She had only used a panoptikon once, and that was with the help of her mother in trying to figure out how it worked. Most households didn’t even have one in the first place, and in her house she only had it because it was a gift. Her mother had grown up with at least five of these in her house, albeit an older version, so she had known how to operate it, especially since they also used them in the military.

She wound up the machine, and thread the film that she had gotten from the box through it. She didn’t want to start where she had finished, so, once it was powered on, and the machine was running, a bit louder than she hoped it would be, all set up in her room, pointing to the one area on her wall that she had enough space to set it up, she fast forwarded the film, by unwinding it up manually, instead of allowing it to unwind itself, spinning the film into the second roll. She found herself slowing down again as those pictures appeared on her wall. Her hand dropped to her side as she stared at them, showing the beautiful wings before the dried blood covered back. As if taunting her with what she could have grown up with, but never experienced enough to actually remember.

[[“It’s okay.” Natsu replied, shaking his head, “I can handle this much.”

There was a cut, before it went back to him, his face was somber, but his brow furrowed, and his vision narrowed as he stared at the floor. Voice shaking as he continued to recount what had happened. There were obvious pauses in what he said, as if trying to dub it down to less than what it was.

“One thing I was grateful for, when I was being… lashed… was that Lucy wasn’t the one who was experiencing it. I had already failed her once, I couldn’t do it a second time. I wouldn’t do it a second time.” He shook his head, “Of course, I had chosen to keep my mouth shut the whole time, resolved to do that. Yeah, the easy way out would be to just kill myself, bite off my tongue, like all of my fellow soldiers would do to keep military secrets from spilling. If it was that easy, I would’ve done that, but…” He looked up to the interviewer who was off screen, “I have a family, you know? My wife is still fighting on the frontlines, and my little girl was only three at the time. I couldn’t be selfish and leave them. So, of course, I had to just endure, wait until the opportunity arose for me to leave.”]]

Nasha stopped it. How was it that right when she had chosen to walk out, that time in school, the time that he chose to confirm what uncle Gray had stated. What a hypocrite. He said he had to return home, had to stay alive, but then he just decided to up and disappear the way he did only a few years later? The pictures weren’t on the screen, so it was easier to endure, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes release her tears down her cheeks. Yes, she hated him, she had to, but how could he be talking about her with that look in his eyes? He’d leave her, she knew he would, so why was she wanting to wrap her arms around him, and hold him tightly, begging him to stay with her for a little bit longer? She dropped her head, feeling almost ashamed to meet his eyes, as if he knew she was watching this video right now.

What was she thinking right now? She was trying to learn about what happened, not remiss about the times she had before. She grabbed her backpack from its spot by the end of her bed, and pulled out her history notebook. Besides, since she didn’t watch the whole thing before she was certain that her grade was going to suffer. Usually, she didn’t care about her grade, she’ll admit that, but honestly, she was just trying to bring up her grade so that she didn’t have to repeat this year. She knew nobody in the class below her, after all. She grew up with Greige, and the Redfox twins.

[[“There was… someone new who came into the cell. I think it was after that guy came that everything went to shit. Ah, sorry, my language.”

“Don’t apologize, this isn’t going to be shown to children, after all.”]]

She had to be honest, it wasn’t very often growing up that she heard her dad actually swear, so it was kind of… refreshing, in a way. Confirming to her that he really did deserve what he had gone through, especially since he chose to leave her. Besides, it just gave her another reason to hate him.

[[“They freed my hands from those painful shackles, that wouldn’t melt no matter how much heat I admitted, and then they…” he paused, his hand slowly raised in the air, as his gaze dropped to the ground again. He reached across himself and touched his shoulder blade, “Pinned my wings up to the wall… with that same metal.” He closed his eyes tightly, and shook his head, “You know, I still remember how painful that was, I roared so loudly they all had to cover their ears, grimacing. It’s kind of funny how my body remembers the pain even though they aren’t there anymore.” He wore a pained smile on his face, “Feeling my wings burn was a sensation I didn’t think possible. Of course, with my wings captive, and my stomach empty, there wasn’t much I could do. They said they’d free my wings if I told them what they wanted to hear. But, I wasn’t going to take that chance.

“Whatever I said could be used against Lucy, and Nasha… and everyone else, so, of course I’d keep my mouth shut even tighter. They threatened to take away my dragon traits, and tried everything they could to get me to break. Lashes so harsh and close that it tore my flesh apart. Knees to the face that made me think I really would lose my sense of smell. It’s not like I hadn’t experienced pain before, I’ve been in the military for a little over a decade now, and most of that time I was on the front lines. It was just… so repetitive, and I had no strength from being starved. Eventually they’d leave, and I’d try to free my wings. It’d strain my back, and pull at the metal that pinned them in place, which only caused them to burn more.”

He looked down at his hand, and closed his eyes tightly, as if trying to rid himself of the memory.

“Were you able to get it off?” His interviewer asked.

Her father stared at them with an almost dumbfounded expression, his eyes glanced behind him, as if to say, does it look like I got it off? “Eventually,” he replied, dropping his gaze back to his hand.

“My apologies for interrupting, please continue.”

He looked back up at them, and smiled, “I’m sorry, but, what’s the time?” he asked. It seemed like he was changing the subject.

“It’s half past noon.”

Her father nodded, muttering something to himself, as his eyes lost focus again. He made a distorted expression, closing his eyes tightly for a second, before opening them again to stare down at his hand.

“General Dragneel?” the interviewer asked, but her father’s focus was still on his lap. He had completely zoned out.

The back of the interviewer’s head came into view for a second, “General Dragneel?” they repeated.

He looked up, his gaze still unfocused, before he shook his head, closing his eyes again, as if to bring himself back to the story at hand. He took a deep breath in, and smiled, “I did eventually get my wings out, yes, but… there were other things that happened before that-”

“Again,” the interviewer interrupted, “if you want to stop you can. Please know that we don’t want to force you to tell the story.”

Her father stared at them in silence for a few seconds before letting out a groan and a smile, “I’m aware.”

“Then…” they hesitated, “if you’re okay with it, please continue.”]]

Nasha stopped it again, and got up from the floor, knocking her notebook out of her lap, as she made her way out of her room. She closed the door behind her, and stared at the floor. No. She wasn’t going to feel pity for him. He deserved it, he had to deserve it, for her sake. She slid down the door, as her focus didn’t budge from the floor. She couldn’t handle this. Why did they choose to send this story to a high school? She was supposed to hate him, not wish he was here. She was supposed to hate him, not want to hold him close. She was supposed to hate him, not long for his warmth. She was supposed to hate him, not crave his voice. She was supposed to hate him, right? That’s what she had been doing for as long as she had.

No, this story he told wasn’t going to change her mind. She can hate someone and miss someone, right? Right? Missing him, because she wanted to throw him away herself. If he would throw her and her mom away, then she could crave his comfort… so that she could throw him away, right? She pulled her knees closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, as she buried her face between them. She hiccupped. There wasn’t a single man in her life that she both hated and missed as much as she did her father. She only began watching that film because she wanted to learn more about the prisoners of war, not because she wanted to see his face, and feel like he was telling the story to her, again. This was all because of his stupid wings that had been delivered to her mother. That’s all it could be because, right? It couldn’t be because she actually wanted to be with him again, right?

A shadow covered her, and she looked up to see her mother looking down at her. Slowly, she knelt down, and wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her close. She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t need to. As she wore her black dress, its sleeves draping over her daughter, there was a silent comfort that came from it. Out of everyone that she ever met, who ever knew him, her mother understood how she was feeling the most. Her hiccups got louder and more aggressive as she leaned into her mother’s embrace. There was something about her that made her desire it even more. It wasn’t like her father’s hugs, but it didn’t need to be. It was warm, and comforting. Something that he hadn’t been able to give to her in eight years. She couldn’t budge from her position, and she felt her mother shaking as she held her. Silent tears, silent cries, silent mourning, as if they both weren’t crying their hearts out. Her mother was silent, keeping her own emotions down, so that she could comfort her daughter.

Nasha opened her mouth and wailed. She hated him, she did, nothing would change that. It had been eight years, and not a single day went by that she didn’t hate him, but… but… if she could be given just this one chance, she wanted to miss him again. She wanted to not hate him. She wanted to love him, to run to him, to hug him, to want him here with her again. Her mother understood that, her mother couldn’t not understand that. Burying her face into her mother’s shoulder, she wrapped her arms around her, as she let her heart out onto her sleeve. This was like his birthday all over again, except this time… this time she both hated and missed him even more. She even pitied him a little. That strong man that she used to look up to without a second thought, who became the man she hated without a passing glance, was now also a man that she pitied what he’d gone through while trying to convince herself that she hated him.

She did hate him. She had to. But right now, she was feeling like that eight year old girl who just found out her father wasn’t ever coming home. She was just reliving that moment in her head right now, that moment where she opened the door and he wasn’t there. That moment where she pulled her mom’s sleeve and her mom shook her head with tears streaming down her face, shakily saying that her Daddy had gone up to the stars.

For a little while, her naive mind would watch the shooting stars as they fell, and tried to convince her mom to go over to where it had disappeared on the horizon, hoping that that star was her dad, that he had come back home. It was a silly thought, and even if her mother shook her head, telling her that those stars weren’t her father, she had tried to convince her mother that she was wrong. Right now, though, she wished she were right, and that her mother truly was wrong. That one of those shooting stars had been her father, that he was coming back, that he was here, even if she had seen his picture at his funeral, even if she had visited him every time on his birthday to hate him for leaving them, to blame him for all of her troubles, to despise his very existence, and yell at him about how all of the troubles he had faced in his lifetime were all karma for what he’d do to end it it all.

She didn’t know how many days she had waited, how many days she had whined to Miss Juvia and auntie Levy about how she missed her Daddy, and her Mommy, when she was finally told something good. Her mom was gone a lot, she would come home any time that she could, tell her she missed her, wrap her arms around her and give her tons of kisses, but she would always ask why her dad wasn’t coming home. Where was he? Why was he gone? Why wasn’t he coming back with her mom? Sometimes her mom shook her head, looking away muttering how she didn’t know where her dad was. Muttering how nobody knew where her dad was.

Her mom didn’t know she had good ears, she never told her mom she had good ears, her mom and dad seemed to be grateful that she had her mom’s ‘ears’ so how could she tell her that she didn’t. She had special hearing. One time, though, her mom ran to her upon picking her up from Miss Juvia’s house, wrapping her arms around her with such a huge smile that everything that she had been playing didn’t matter. She heard Miss Juvia asking if it was good news, and she could hear her mom’s hiccups, even if she tried to hide them. Her mom was happy about something, so tremendously happy that there was only one thing it could be.

“Nasha, we found Daddy.” her mom smiled, when she pulled away, pushing her daughter’s hair out of her face.

Her eyes widened, “Where’s Daddy?”

Her mom shook her head slowly, “He’s not with Mommy right now.”

“Then where is Daddy?” she asked, staring deep into her mom’s eyes.

“He’s at the medics, the hospital.”

What? The hospital? She hadn’t been herself, but Larima did. Larima stayed in the hospital for a whole day and she couldn’t play with her. “Why’s Daddy in the hospital?”

“Well, your Daddy’s-”

“Is Daddy sick?” she asked. That’s why Larima was in the hospital, she was sick. That’s what auntie Levy said.

Her mom hesitated for a second before nodding, cupping her face in her hand, “Yes, Daddy’s sick.”

“Can I see Daddy?” she asked. When Larima was in the hospital auntie Levy took her to go see her, with Garnet, of course.

Her mom smiled, “I want to take you to see him, baby, but it’s a little dangerous.”

Nasha smiled, “I’m brave, Mommy.”

Her mom kissed her forehead, “I know you are, sweetie.”

“So can I see Daddy?”

Her mom bit her lip, before smiling, and scooping her up in her arms, “I’ve got to ask the people who are there if I can bring you to see Daddy, okay?”

“Are they mean?”

Her mom shook her head, “No, but they have to keep everyone safe over there, baby.”

“So I can’t see Daddy?” she asked, pouting.

Her mom shook her head, again, “Not yet.”

“But I want to see Daddy.”

“I know, baby.”

“I miss Daddy.”

“I do, too, Nasha.”

“So can I go see Daddy?”

Her mom strapped her into her seat in their automotive, and smiled, “Do you want to see if you can see Daddy?” she asked.

She nodded.

Her mom gave her a big smile, and kissed her cheek, “Then let’s go see if they’ll let you see Daddy.”

It was a long drive, she didn’t know when she fell asleep, but soon she was in her mom’s arms, and her mom was nudging her until she woke up. She looked around the room that they were in. It was all white, like the hospital that Larima had been in. She eagerly looked around to see where her dad was, but she didn’t see him anywhere. They were in some sort of hallway. She looked over to her mom, who was giving her a soft smile.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked.

Her mom motioned with her head to the door that somebody, wearing clothes like her mom wore, was opening, “In order to see Daddy, we have to go in here.”

“Daddy’s in here?” she asked, and her mom slowly walked into the room with her in her arms. The room was dark, and there was a large window on one side. One of those guys who dressed like her mom was standing on the other side of the door, and closed it behind them. She looked around the room, it was empty. “Daddy’s not in here.”

Her mom turned her to look at the window, “Daddy’s in there.” she said, her voice was shaking.

Nasha looked in the window to see someone laying on a bed, they had something attached to their face, and she could barely make out what they looked like, but the thing that caught her eye was the hair. She knew that hair, she had hair that matched it. She pressed her hands to the glass, and her mom changed her hold on her, “Daddy?” she asked.

Her mom nodded, pressing her cheek against hers, “That’s Daddy.” She whispered.

She looked to her mom, “Why’s Daddy in there?”

Her mom smiled, “Daddy’s sick.”

“But I want to hug Daddy.”

“Daddy can’t hug you right now.”

“Is Daddy sleeping?”

“Yes, Daddy’s sleeping.”

“I want Daddy to wake up.”

“I want Daddy to wake up, too.”

“When’s Daddy waking up?”

Her mom shook her head, and looked back at her dad through the window, “I don’t know, Nasha, I don’t know when Daddy’s waking up.”

“Does Daddy have to stay here?”

She nodded, adjusting her hold on her, “Yes, Daddy has to stay here.”

“But I want Daddy to come home.”

“I want him to come home…” she muttered.

Her mother pulled her closer, “I do, too.”

“Why’d he choose not to?”

“He didn’t.”

“Then…” she pulled herself away, “where is he?”

Her mom ran her hand through her hair, “I miss him, too.”

She shook her head, “No, if he didn’t choose to not come home, then where is he? He’s dead, Mom! He’s never coming home. He chose to not come home!”

Her mom smiled, shaking her head gently, “It… it was an accident.”

“An accident? He could have avoided it if he didn’t-”

“I know,” her mom interrupted, “I should have stopped him.”

Her mom was saying that again. She pushed her mom’s hand away, “Why would it be up to you to stop him? He’s the one who-”

“Because he came to me first.” her mom sighed, “Asked me if everything was okay, if we had everything handled.”

What? Was uncle Gray really right? That the textbooks really didn’t tell her everything? She lived through the war, she should know what had happened better than anyone, and yet… she didn’t? She shook her head, “He still chose to-”

“He… we… didn’t expect it to happen.”

Hold up, was he mom actually going to tell her what had truly happened? Not beat around the bush or clamp up? She shut her mouth from what she was going to say, and tightly closed her eyes, before opening them again and staring directly into her mother’s, “So… what did happen?”

“What?”

She shrugged, “Uncle Gray says that it wasn’t him using so much magic that he killed himself, like the textbooks say, that he had gotten shot in the head.”

Her mom’s eyes widened, “Your… your textbooks say he killed himself?”

Her mom was so dumb sometimes. She sighed, “Yeah, they do. Are you going to tell me that the textbooks are wrong?”

Her mom collapsed in her position, and stared down at her lap, “Natsu… killing himself?” she let out a laugh, “That’s preposterous.” Her voice was soft, barely audible, but loud enough for her to hear clearly.

“You going to say he didn’t, too?” she sighed, “Why would the textbooks say something like that if-”

“To save his image.” her mom shook her head.

“What?”

She sighed, and looked up at her daughter, “That’s the only thing it could be. How would it look to you if one of the greatest generals of the longest war died by mere miscalculation?”

“Miscalculation?”

“But… in the process of trying to save his image, they ruined it.” she stared back down at her lap.

“So…” she rolled her eyes, “You’re telling me that my dad died because of a miscalculation?”

“On all of our parts.” her mother breathed out.

“And… that’s supposed to make me think better of him?”

Her mom shook her head, “I… I didn’t say it was… I… I know you hate him, Nasha. He left you, here, and went out to battle when he should have stayed home. I understand that. You were also only eight at the time,” she cupped her daughter’s face in her hand, “of course you’re going to take it poorly. I… I just thought it was you grieving… I… I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop your father. It’s my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault?”

“Because…” she smiled, a pained smile, as new tears streamed down her face over the ones that had already dried, “He’d listen to me.”

Was she serious? After all this time, she wanted her to blame her mother for the fact that her father left? Her mother who stayed by her this whole time, her mother who had comforted her every time she cried? Her mother who was never too strict, but never too lenient? Her mother who would come in a heartbeat if she did so much as waver her voice in a phone call? No, there was no way that she could blame such a mother.

“It’s not your fault, Mom, if it was your fault then…” she looked away, “then it’s also mine.” That was the truth. It burned her throat as it came out of her mouth. She couldn’t believe she just said that. It was true, though, if it was her mother’s fault for not telling him to not go, then it was her fault, too, because he asked her if he should go. He asked her if she wanted him to go. He asked her if she trusted him to come back. He asked her if she was brave enough to let him go. He asked her if he could go check on her mom. He asked her… and she said she was a ‘big girl’ and that she could ‘wait for Daddy to come back.’ She dropped her head to stare down at her lap. She was blaming him this whole time, blaming him for everything, when… when really… maybe it really was her fault. Maybe she had been the one who made the mistake, the miscalculation. Maybe… maybe she really should have destroyed his brace that one time she was mad at him for not letting her go to Sieg’s tenth birthday party.

She shook her head, “I can’t blame my mom for him being gone, cause then I’d have to blame myself.” She raised her head to look into her mother’s eyes, “It’s not my fault he left, he chose to leave! He could have stayed! He-”

Her mom wiped her eyes, she hadn’t realized she had begun to cry, “Nasha, I know it’s not your fault. How could it be the fault of an eight year old? You were such a big girl, and I’m sorry that we weren’t around enough in your childhood.” She pulled her to her chest, “I’m glad he asked you, baby. He… he really did plan on coming back, he would never break a promise.”

Liar. She couldn’t tell her mother that she thought he was a liar, though. Her mother viewed him too highly. She let her mom hold her tightly in her arms, but didn’t hug her back. She frowned, this was getting annoying, couldn’t they just tell her what had actually happened, if they all knew what had been told in the textbooks wasn’t what had actually happened? Her mom was still too heartbroken to say anything, especially after receiving his darned wings. If she were going to find out what had truly happened, she’d have to do a bit of deep digging.

It was probably a few minutes later that her mom pulled away from her and looked up at her bedroom door, “Were you… watching it?” she asked.

She shrugged, and stood up, “Does it matter?”

Her mom shook her head, “Not really, I just… I know it’s not easy to watch, that’s all.”

“I wouldn’t have, but I wanted to research what goes on for the POW.”

Her mom nodded, and slowly rose to her feet, “I… I’m sorry.”

Nasha rolled her eyes, and went back into her room, closing the door behind her. There was another person that came to mind that she could ask, and she didn’t exactly want her mom knowing that she was digging into her father’s death behind her back. Granted, it wasn’t like it was a bad thing to do, it usually shouldn’t be a bad thing, after all. It just felt wrong, because her mom hadn’t told her anything. Everyone seemed to be talking around the truth, telling her the textbooks were wrong, but never telling her what really happened. Thus, there was one person who she felt like she’d actually be able to get information out of. He was quite blunt, and he told it as it was. Uncle Gray said that he felt responsible, too, but she was sure he’d have one of the most unbiased views on what had truly happened. He hadn’t been as close with her father when they were young, mainly because he was a few years older than him.

She slid open her bedroom window, and slipped herself out of the house, closing it behind her, but leaving enough room for it to be easily opened the next morning. This wasn’t the first time she had slipped out of the house without her mother knowing, after all. Her mother wasn’t going to check on her for a while, her brain was too filled with her dead father’s wings, after all. She supposed this was one thing she was grateful that his wings had suddenly made an appearance at her house thirteen years after he had lost them.

The setting sky was a bit darker than usual, which meant it was probably going to storm. She made her way to the neighborhood that many of the people who had ranked up to general during the times of war had moved to after it had ended. Auntie Erza lived here with Sieg, even if Sieg was rarely ever home, hanging out with their friends on nights like this. The other person who lived here, though, was uncle Laxus. Uncle Gray had said that he felt like he sent her father to his death, but he had a pretty high rank during the war, and he held it for a long time. She had read numerous articles about the things he had done with the Special Corps, their wins and their losses. He was probably one of the least biased generals in the war, or, at least during the time that her father was also a general. There were numerous articles that her class was supposed to read about her father, too, but she purposefully chose not to read those.

With a hesitant hand, she knocked on that tall, wide door. She waited a few minutes, before it opened and someone with long straight hair covering one of his eyes opened it. She looked back up at the house number, before going back to the man. She was certain she had gotten the right house. She had gone here before one time when they were celebrating the equality campaign.

“Ah,” the person muttered, it seemed to have taken a second for them to register who had come to the door, “It’s Natsu’s kid.”

“Natsu’s and Lucy’s kid?” she heard an ever deeper voice, but the door wasn’t opened wide enough for her to see who spoke. She knew, though, that it was the person she had come to see.

“What’s she doing here? Problems at home?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Just let the chick in!”

“She’s still a teen, I don’t think it’s right that you call her a chick, Bixlow.” the woman’s voice came again.

“Chick as in baby chicken, not hot babe,” came the counter argument.

The door opened wider, and she stared up at the towering man in front of her. He had eyes like her father’s, those snake-like eyes, and ears like her father, but he didn’t have wings, not because he lost them, but because he was never born with them in the first place. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” she looked down at her feet, he was just as intimidating as he had been last time.

“Gosh, Laxus, you’re scaring the poor girl,” the woman stated, pushing him aside, “Come on in, your poor thing, and let auntie Eve hear all about it.”

She looked up at her, before glancing back at the general she came to see, “A…actually I came to see uncle Laxus…”

“That’s Laxus for you.” the long haired man nodded.

“What’s she want to see you for? Did you do something to her mom, again?” uncle Bixlow asked, peeking around his shoulder to look at her.

“Haven’t talked to Lucy since last year’s equality campaign party, get your head out of the gutter, Bix.” Uncle Laxus shoved his hand in his face, before gesturing for her to come inside, “Why so stiff?”

“Um…” she made her way inside, these people were all intimidating. Auntie Evergreen sat her down on the loveseat in the drawing room - this house had a drawing room and a living room, it was huge - and fussed over her hair for a few seconds before making her way off to the kitchen to make some tea. “I wanted to ask… about… my dad?” she muttered, eyeing the man who sat in front of her.

“About Natsu?” all three of the people she wasn’t talking to piped up, “Can’t you ask your mom about him?”

Uncle Laxus nodded, raising a brow, “Why’d you come all the way here?”

She fidgeted with her skirt, “Yeah, but… my mom always… bursts into tears when I ask about him.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the truth, either.

“Figures.”

“Sometimes, I’m surprised they even got together in the first place.” auntie Ever mumbled.

“Her mom does have a nice bod.” uncle Bixlow added.

“Her ability to command the Spirits Corps was unmatched.” uncle Freed nodded.

“Will you three shut up for a minute?” uncle Laxus interrupted.

She looked behind her at them, and her auntie Ever handed her a hot tea cup, “Fine, fine, we’ll be in the living room, the horse races are supposed to begin soon, and I’m planning on winning more than Elfman this time.”

“I never did understand how that meathead won so many…” uncle Freed grumbled, as he led the three of them into the other room.

She glanced at them, before going back to the general she came here to speak with, “So…”

“You want to ask about your dad?” Uncle Laxus asked before she could repeat her request. “There are so many better people to speak to about him, why come to me? We didn’t exactly get along much when he was growing up.”

She hadn’t known about that, but still, she didn’t come here to learn about his childhood, “I… I want to know what happened.”

“What happened?”

“Yeah,” she fidgeted with the teacup, “Uncle Gray was talking about how it wasn’t a suicide mission, and… don’t get me wrong, I still hate him, but, I just… I don’t know, if the textbooks are really not telling the whole story then-”

“And you came to me?”

She nodded.

“It’s kind of a touchy topic for me, too, you know.”

“I… do…”

He sighed, “There’s not much to tell, he fired the enemy’s leading general down, destroying the enemy’s morale, and giving us the chance to push them back and win the war. Unfortunately, he ended up getting shot in the process. That’s about it. Is that really what you had come here for?”

She bit her lip, and stared down at her tea, “Uncle… Uncle Gray said that you felt like you sent him to his death…”

He sighed, “Yeah, it does feel like I did that. You gonna hate me for killing your dad?”

She shook her head, “It’s not like you actually killed him… and besides, I already hate him.”

“Why?”

She looked up, “What?” Wasn’t that obvious?

“Why do you hate him?” he asked.

“Well…” she raised a brow, “because he abandoned me?”

He sighed, “Look, I hate my pops, too, but he wasn’t a good father. Natsu, your dad, was a good father, I just can’t wrap my head around why you’d hate such a man.”

“He abandoned me and my mom. Decided to just kill himself-”

“Yeah, yeah, your little hate story has made its way around to all the people who knew him, pipsqueak, but that doesn’t give you a genuine reason to hate him.”

“What do you mean? He was an awful father. He left me and-”

“Maybe it’s because all of your friends happen to have good fathers, who are still alive, but Natsu was a great father for all I can tell. My dad did experiments on me. Cana's dad has slept around so often he went through five possible women on who her mom could’ve been before she had to just straight up tell him who it was. Natsu, Gajeel, Wendy, Sting, Rogue, and the rest of them don’t remember their parents. Your mom’s father was a money-hungry man who abused his power over your mom on multiple occasions, when she was growing up, before the war really started affecting day to day life. I just don’t see why you hate your dad so much when he just happened to die in the war.”

She blinked. “I don’t see how it’s your place to tell me if I should hate my dad or not.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t,” he sighed, “Sometimes you really do have his brains. I’m asking why you do. Simply saying it’s because he abandoned you can’t be the real reason you hate him.”

“I didn’t ask to be asked questions, I came to ask the questions.”

He nodded, and poured himself a cup of whiskey that they were probably drinking before she had arrived, “I know. So, what else do you want to know?”

“Why uncle Gray said that you felt you sent my dad to his death.” She was getting a bit more confident in front of him, now that he seemed to have challenged her opinion.

He raised a brow, “You saying your textbooks don’t tell you?”

She shook her head.

He sighed, and took a sip from his glass, “I threw him.”

“What?”

He shrugged, “To be precise, he asked me to throw him.”

“So he really did-”

“And I could have said no, in fact, I would have if I had known he’d die.” He sighed, taking another sip, “At that time, the ice wall had been completely breached, the enemy had broken through, and we were at our wit's end. Barely any of us had enough power left, and then your dad showed up. I had just enough power to launch him into the sky so that he could get a good vantage point, and in that one action he turned the tides of the war. I hadn’t even noticed he was shot until I heard your mother’s scream. There’s not much to the story. I don’t really know how he ended up where we were, for all I knew he was back behind the barrier with you.” he shrugged, and took another sip from his glass before placing it on the coaster, “The thing is, having him there gave us the energy we needed to push through. It’s a tragedy how he passed. It’s still hard for me to tell that story, and we all lost things in the war. I lost my gramps, you lost your dad, even Mira’s gone, too. Nobody thought she’d… die… with how strong she is. It’s the same with your dad. Sometimes we lose the people we care most about, that’s how war is, it’s how life is, kid. Stop hating the dead man, and live your life. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to spend all your time thinking about him, even if it was just about how much you miss him.” He sighed, and shook his head.

“It was still suicide, though.”

“There you go again. How many people have you talked to about this? Are you just waiting until someone tells a story that matches what you’ve convinced yourself of what had happened?”

“My dad was fast, he could’ve dodged a bullet.”

“Yeah,” he looked down at the glass.

“We thought he would, too.” she heard auntie Ever behind her again.

“He was quite stubborn, that one.” uncle Freed muttered, “Escaped death so many times, we just… assumed he would this time, too. The probability of him dying in that attack was less than ten percent.”

“Made himself the hero of the war, though.” uncle Bixlow added.

“Have I answered your question?” uncle Laxus asked.

She put her cup of untouched tea onto the coffee table, “Would he… truly have come back if he lived?”

“That’s a dumb question, dear,” auntie Ever smiled, leaning over the loveseat.

“It’s like asking if Levy likes reading.” uncle Freed sighed.

“That man came back from death camp to you and your mom.” uncle Bixlow shook his head, his voice went soft, and he muttered under his breath, “it’s a wonder how he didn’t come back this time, actually.”

Uncle Laxus smiled, “You’re still young, kid, hate is only going to make your life miserable, trust me, I should know. Stop hating him, and just move on. You don’t have to love him or miss him, but you're only going to dig yourself into a hole if you continue to hate him. Dead or alive, hate only brings trouble upon yourself and those you do love.” He got up from his seat, “Now hurry off, I’m certain your mom doesn’t know you’re here, and we’re doing adult things here.”

Nasha slowly got up and made her way out of that large house. Auntie Ever was waving at her the whole way, telling her to stop by her place sometime for a makeover, or something. She wasn’t sure, but for some reason she felt conflicted after talking with him. She had thought that she would feel more reassured that her hate for her father was warranted, but instead, she felt a mix of emotions. As if what they were saying was true, but what she was saying was also true, right? Just because they were older than her didn’t mean they were truly wiser than her. Just because they fought in wars didn’t mean they understood the value of life more than she did. Yeah, maybe he was right, maybe she shouldn’t spend so much of her time hating on him, but what else was she supposed to do? Love him? Love him? The man who walked out of her life, and went and got himself killed, never to return, breaking the promise that he’d never leave her, that he’d always be there for her? Didn’t people say to never make promises you can’t keep? Well that was true. Her father should have never made a promise that he’d break just like that.

And yet, instead of going home, she found herself at the columbarium in front of his picture again. Why was she here? What was she doing here? She didn’t miss him right now, did she? She couldn’t miss him right now, after all, she was just… she was just… She pressed her forehead to the glass. No, she did miss him, and she missed him much more than she thought she should. Much, much more than she thought she should. She pressed a fist to the glass.

“I really do hate you.” she muttered.

His picture stared back at her, egging her to continue.

“You think you can just keep smiling like that?”

Those proud eyes looked back at her.

“I hate you. I hate you.”

Again, his silent stare from the photo taunted her.

“I’ll never stop hating you.”

“I’ll always love you, Nasha.”

“I’ll always love you more, Daddy!” she exclaimed.

“I don’t think so,” he smiled, tickling her.

She laughed, kicking her legs in the air, and begging her dad to stop, “I do love you more, Daddy!”

“No, you can’t love me more than I love you!” he exclaimed, “That’s just not possible.”

She smiled, and stuck out her tongue, “I love you more!”

He blew raspberries into her stomach.

She laughed, squealing as he did so.

“Nasha,” he said, more serious this time, “Don’t you miss your mom?”

She blinked, and looked up at him, “Yeah, I miss Mommy.”

“Me too,” he stated, “I want her to come home right now, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I want Mommy to come home.”

He sighed, and collapsed onto her bed next to her, “Can Daddy sleep here tonight?”

She sat up, her dad wanted to sleep with her? “Is Daddy scared?”

He nodded, “Daddy’s super scared.”

She grabbed his face, “Why’s Daddy scared?”

“Daddy’s scared, because he misses Mommy.”

“Don’t be scared, Daddy, Mommy’s gonna come back.”

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“Mommy’s gonna come back?”

“Yeah, Mommy’s gonna come back.”

“So Daddy has to sleep alone?”

Her eyes widened, “Daddy doesn’t want to sleep alone?”

He shook his head, and pulled her to him, “Sometimes, I’m scared that I’ll lose both you and Mommy.”

“Why would you lose us?”

He smiled, “I just really love you, so I get scared sometimes.”

She pulled at his cheeks, “That’s silly, Daddy.”

“Ow, baby, that hurts,” he grumbled, and pulled her hands off of him, “Why’s it silly?”

“Because Mommy is going to come home, and I’m right here.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, aggressively, “Yeah.”

“Then it’s silly for you to be scared, too, isn’t it?”

She shook her head, “But I’m four, Daddy, Daddy’s not.”

He smiled, and kissed her head, before getting up, “Alright, baby, are you not scared anymore?”

She looked up at him as he left her alone on her bed, “Daddy’s not sleeping with me?”

He shook his head, “Daddy’s not going to bed, yet.”

“I wanted Daddy to sleep with me.” she pouted.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “Good night, Nasha, I love you.”

“But I’m not tired, Daddy.”

He shook his head, a playful smile on his face, “You should’ve been asleep an hour ago. I’m not going anywhere, Nasha. Love you,” he kissed her forehead again, “Good night, sleep tight.”

She lay down again in her bed, pulling her covers up to her chin as she watched her dad limp out of her room, and close the door behind him. She frowned, she wasn’t tired, and after waking up from that nightmare, she didn’t want to go back to sleep. She stared up at the glowing stars on her ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake her, but no matter how many times she counted the stars, it didn’t. It didn’t matter if she was supposed to be asleep an hour ago, she couldn’t sleep. She rolled over onto her stomach, and stared at the patterns on her rug. Tracing them out with her eyes, before she just got bored. She still wasn’t tired.

Carefully, she lifted off her covers, and slipped out of her bed. Tiptoeing over to her bedroom door, and opening it just a crack so that she could peek into the living room. Her dad sat there on the couch, with his glasses on, holding the newspaper up. She pouted, and closed the door again. Her dad would be sad that she wasn’t sleeping. She made her way back to her bed, and climbed into it, tucking herself in again. Silently she stared up at the ceiling, counting the stars on it. She probably counted them ten times, before she got up from her bed again, and peeked out her door.

Her dad yawned before placing the newspaper in his lap, and flipping the page before picking it back up. He had a frown on his face, and his brows were furrowed, whatever he was reading must be serious. She closed the door again, and climbed back into her bed. Maybe if she counted the stars twenty times then he’d be done reading. She stared up at the ceiling, and counted her stars. There were tons of stars on her ceiling, probably thirty stars. She was a big girl now, she could count all the way up to one hundred, and her mom said she was super smart, too. There weren’t a hundred stars on her ceiling though. There were only thirty. She got up from her bed again, after counting them twenty times, and tiptoed over to the door, opening it a crack.

Her dad’s eyes were closed, and he was resting against the couch. His glasses had slipped down from their spot, and were now at the tip of his nose. The paper lay in his lap, as his hand held it loosely. She opened the door wider, and made her way over to him. She waved a hand in his face, but he didn’t move. Carefully, she pulled the glasses off his face, and he still didn’t move.

“Daddy?” she asked.

Instead of replying, his chest rose and fell, and she took the newspaper out of his hand, and placed it on the coffee table. She hurried off to her room and grabbed one of her blankets, before coming back into the living room. Her dad still hadn’t moved. She lay her blanket on his lap, before heading over to the wall, to turn the knob so that the lights would turn off. She stood on her tiptoes to reach it, turning it slowly, until the room was dark. She didn’t care if the room was dark or not, she could see in the dark.

She made her way back over to her dad, and lifted the blanket on his lap, before climbing onto him, careful not to lay on his leg, that he should be wearing that thing for, but he doesn’t. She pulled her blanket over her as she snuggled into his warm chest. Her dad moved underneath her, and for a second, she thought he was going to wake up, and tell her to go to bed, but instead, his hand was on her back, securing her in place, as she felt him breath against her. She smiled, curling herself even deeper into him, loving the warmth that he gave.

She stared up at the ceiling as she leaned against the glass. The room was cold, and she missed that warmth he gave. Part of her wanted to go back to that crater so that she could feel it again, but another part of her felt like that would just be confirming that she missed him. She really would always hate him, it didn’t matter how many stories were told to her, she wouldn’t ever forgive him for what he had done. She curled her knees to her chest, as if that would help keep her warm. This was awful, this feeling of longing. Especially for someone that she hated. What did uncle Laxus know? He didn’t know anything, because her whole life she had been hating this man, if… if she stopped now wouldn’t that mean she wasted her life away?

“Oh,” she heard a new voice, and she looked up to see the person who had come in. How had she not heard her coming? She had a huge machine that was making a lot of annoying noise hooked up to the back of her wheelchair. “I didn’t think anyone would be here so late at night.” she muttered.

Nasha groaned, “I was just leaving.” The town was small, and there was a high chance that this woman knew someone who knew her, and she wasn’t going to take the chance.

“I’m sorry, is the noise loud?” the woman asked.

“What?”

The woman rolled closer, “You… you have good hearing don’t you?”

“What?” she raised a brow, this woman was strange, who comes up to someone and just asks if they have good hearing? Especially in a columbarium, at that.

“You’re Natsu’s kid, right?” she asked.

Nasha looked over to the woman again, looking her up and down. She wore a hospital gown, and had tubes hooked up to her face that connected to the machine on the back of her wheelchair. She rolled herself closer, her face was pale, but she had bright blue eyes, and hair that she couldn’t tell was naturally white or had gone white from stress. She sighed, it was another one of those people who were friends with her father when he was alive.

“Yeah, I was.” She got up from the ground, dusting herself off.

“My deepest condolences.” auntie Lisanna said, bowing her head.

“No need, I couldn’t care less about him, anyway.” She began to walk past her.

“Yet, you still made the trip here,” she smiled, and rolled up to his urn, staring up at it behind the glass.

“And? Doesn’t mean I actually care.”

She shook her head, “I know…”

“You gonna pay your respects to him, too?” Nasha rolled her eyes.

“Oh,” she smiled, “No, I didn’t come here to see him. My sister is a couple aisles down.”

Now she seemed like the disrespectful one here. She bowed her head to her, “My condolences.”

“Thank you, I’m sure she would have loved to meet you, Nasha.”

She smiled, “I’m sure she was a great sister.”

Auntie Lisanna smiled, “Indeed. She was quite kind, even if she had a bit of a heated temper if you ticked her off. She didn’t want me to join, even after I had been drafted, and was too worried I’d lose my life. It’s sad that she was the one who did, and I miss her dearly for it, especially since she protected me at the time. I asked her why she did it, when she was in my arms, and…” she smiled, tears forming in her eyes, “despite our promise to always stick together through thick and thin, she said she couldn’t let me die.”

For some odd reason, it almost felt like she was talking about Natsu, even though she knew she was talking about auntie Mirajane who had passed away before she was even born. She bit her lip, as she listened in silence to the woman over twenty years her senior. Her soft voice calmly telling a story that she knew was difficult for her to recollect, and yet despite it being her story. A story about how she lost her sister, it felt like she was trying to tell her the reason that her father had left in the first place.

She looked up to her father’s picture, and smiled, “Nobody truly knows what will happen during times of war, you know.”

“What?”

“That’s why Mira didn’t want me to join. Told me to sneak away, pretend to have died so that I couldn’t be drafted. At first, I was going to listen to her, after all, she was my big sister. I didn’t though, and after training, I ended up in the same corps as her. She and my brother were shocked to see me there when they were bringing in the new recruits. Desperately told me to go back, that the war was no place for a seventeen year old girl, even though she had joined that corps when she was even younger. She wanted to protect both my brother and me, and… well… in that moment, despite not being where she was supposed to be stationed, she had come over in a heartbeat, and ended up losing her life. My brother and I survived, of course, and that’s all that mattered to her. As long as we were safe.” She looked at her, eyes locking with her own, “I… I can only imagine how traumatic it would’ve been for you. I lost her when I was a little over ten years older than you are now, and for… for a child?” She shook her head, “I’m so terribly sorry.” She dropped her gaze to her lap, “Talking to you like this in front of your father… I… just… I know how much I was hurting at the time, and I was old enough, and experienced enough, to know what happens, lost many around me, but… for someone who had to go through it at such a young age…” she put her face in her hands, shaking, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Nasha asked. Sure, she lost her father at a young age, but her father was a liar who broke an important promise. He didn’t dive in to save her and lost his life, he charged forward and sacrificed himself. That’s what happened, plain and simple. It didn’t matter how many people told her otherwise, it didn't matter how many people told her that he truly did care, that it was an accident, he died and never came back. How could she not hate a man like that? Was she expecting to forgive him for shattering her heart, and her trust in him? Of course not. She would never forgive a liar. Ever.

She sighed, and turned on her heel, she wasn’t going to listen to more sob stories about her dad. The sky had gotten dark while she was in there, ranting to her dead father about how much she hated him. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her skirt, and made her way down the sidewalk. ‘You should forgive him.’ ‘He didn’t sacrifice himself.’ ‘Stop hating him.’ It was all the same old stories, the same old cries to her to let go of her hatred. Same old arguments about how he truly did love her, but if he truly loved her, then he’d be here. He wasn’t and hasn’t been for half of her life.

She wanted his warmth? Really? Since when did she crave for something like that? Since when did she want to be with him so much? She stopped in her tracks, and stared down at her feet. She wanted to be with him again? She longed for him? Him? She longed for his presence. She shook her head, this was all because of those stupid wings that were delivered. Those stupid… beautiful… tattered… abused… dismembered wings. The wings that had once been on his back, that would take him into the sky. The wings that she had once loved. The wings that she could barely remember, but they were such obvious proof that he endured horrendous torture and came back to her once. He had come back before, he did. So why was it that this time he wasn’t the one coming back? How come this time his wings were the ones that came back and he was gone?

She dropped to her knees, this was wrong. It was wrong for her to miss him, right? It had to be. It had to be wrong for her to want to see him instead of his wings, right? “I hate you so much.”

She looked up at the dark sky, stars shining so brightly, glimmering in a way that she hadn’t been able to witness when there was the ice wall. She could see the clouds as they threatened to cover up what was shining down at her. She tried counting the stars that she could see, as if once she counted them twenty times she would be able to cozy up in his lap again. A raindrop hit her face, but she still stared up as those shining stars that she and her mother loved disappeared behind the rainclouds.

Another raindrop hit her face, but she didn’t move, staring up at where the stars had once been visible. Another raindrop, and another. She heard the pitter patter of the rain as it hit the walkway she was on, as it rolled down her face, and as it got faster and faster. She had to close her eyes because of how heavy the downpour got, but she didn’t change where she sat. The rain felt refreshing, as if trying to wash away all of her worries, and yet, once she heard a thunder crash, her mind went back to him. She lowered her head, and opened her eyes, staring at the ground as water pooled around her. A lightning flash, followed by another clap of thunder, and her mind wandered back to the times when she’d sneak into her father’s room and see him struggling. How she would attempt to wake him, only to see him stare blankly at the wall in front of him. How he’d apologize for not having heard her call his name. How his shoulders would twitch as if those nubs on his back were crying out for what they used to have. The way his horns would show under his nightcap, and the way his scales would disappear once he made eye contact with her. She had always wondered what had gone through his mind back then, what had caused her father, who she had seen as the strongest and most powerful man, to become so vulnerable when the thunder struck at night.

If she finished that film, would she know? Even if she finished the film, it wouldn’t change the fact that he abandoned her, and chose to sacrifice himself. She stared at the water as the rain bounced in front of her, splattering around her, and soaking her to her core. Her mom was genuinely shocked when she had mentioned it to her. She pushed herself up off the ground, and began making her journey home. Her clothes felt uncomfortable now that they were soaking wet. If she finished watching the film, she’d have a better understanding of what had happened to those who were prisoners of war. She’d also know more about how he lost his wings, probably, too. That was it! She just needed to watch the film to justify her hate for him.

“Nasha!” her mother exclaimed, as she sat on the floor to take off her sopping wet shoes, and socks.

She looked up to her mom as she was suddenly embraced in her hug. She could see the phone swinging against the wall, telling her that she had been on a phone call. Why was she so worried? Sure, she snuck out, and then made the mistake of coming in through the front door, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been out later and longer. She shrugged her mother off of her, “What?”

“Where have you been?”

She rolled her eyes, as she tossed her wet shoes amongst all of the dry ones, “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” her mother exclaimed. “When I saw you weren’t in your room, and-”

“You went into my room?” she interrupted, “Mom!”

Her mother frowned, and gestured with her head to the food that was set up on the kitchen table, “I made dinner three hours ago, and you wouldn’t come out of your room. So I went to check on you. What I saw was that you had been watching and listening to your father. Of course I would get worried about you when you just suddenly disappeared! You think I wouldn’t?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m wet.”

“And that’s another thing!” Her mom exclaimed, “When I had called your aunt Wendy asking if she had seen you, she said that there was supposed to be a major storm. You think I wouldn’t panic?”

“I’m fine, Mom, I just went out for a little bit.”

“You went out, yes, but when I called your uncle Gray, he said that he had seen you the other night over by the military base near the war site.”

“Yeah, I went out there. I hadn’t ever been there before. Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not explicitly, but if you’re going to go out further than the neighborhood, especially outside of town, you have to tell me!”

She rolled her eyes, “It’s not like that’s where I went, anyway.”

“I know,” she sighed, “I called your aunt Erza and she said she had seen you coming out of your uncle Laxus’ house.”

“Did you stalk me?” she asked, “Mom, you can’t do that.”

“I didn’t stalk you, Nasha, I was asking around if anyone had seen you.”

“You act like it’s a big deal, all I did was-”

“Your uncle Elfman had said that your aunt Lisanna ran into you at the columbarium.”

Nasha glared at her mom, “This is an invasion of privacy!”

“You’re my daughter.” her mother snapped, “I have the right to know where you are, at least while you’re still a minor. I don’t mind you going around the neighborhood, but when it’s going to storm like this, and when you suddenly disappear after watching that footage of your father, there’s no way I wouldn’t be worried about you.”

“The footage? The film about that man talking about all the torture he went through instead of simply opening his damn mouth?” She groaned, “You don’t think that if he had opened his mouth and said what they’d want to hear he’d have his damned wings on his back right now? That he’d be here right now?”

“Nasha Dragneel Heartfilia!” Her mother exclaimed.

“It’s just Heartfilia, there’s no Dragneel.” Nasha groaned.

“Your father would have died if he just told them what they wanted to hear.” her mother snapped, ignoring what she had said. “Your father suffered all of that to keep you safe.”

“Oh yeah?” Nasha sighed, “Then tell me where he’s at, Mom. Where is this man who loved me so much he let himself be tortured so that I’d be safe? I don’t see him anywhere, Mom. He’s not here.”

“Nasha-”

“He is dead, Mom. Did it really matter if he had died in that concentration camp or if he died from a bullet wound?” She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter how much you love him, and view him so highly, he’s not here. He broke his promise to you, he broke his promise to me, and he went ahead and just killed himself to become this massive hero that turned the tides of the war. In the process, because he was so selfish, Uncle Gray, Uncle Laxus, you, and many others are all blaming themselves for his stupid ‘miscalculation’ as you call it.” She laughed, “Boosts morale? He boosts morale? Bullshit. He abandoned me here. He left me here, and went to save your dumb ass. And you think that he loved me? That he wanted to protect me?”

“Nasha-”

“And yeah, he asked me if he could go. He did, but he decided to leave his eight-year-old daughter alone and go and save you. Yeah, he was selfish, like Uncle Gray said, but he was so damned selfish that he didn’t care about all the hurt he was going to leave behind. So yeah, all that trouble he went through, all that pain he talks about” she pointed to her bedroom where she had the panoptikon set up, “is all because the universe knew he was going to up and abandon us, Mom. So get a freaking grip already. Move on, he’s gone.” She grabbed the largest picture of him off the wall and threw it onto the ground, shattering the glass, “So just… just… stop waiting for him to come back.”

Her mom slowly bent down and picked up the picture, dusting off the shattered glass, “I want him to come back, yes,” her mom mumbled, “but I’m not waiting for him, baby.”

“Bullshit.”

Her mom sighed, carefully holding his picture in her hands, “I miss him, too.”

“And you sleep with his dismembered wings.”

Her mom shook her head, and looked at her, slowly standing back up, “I love all of him.”

“His wings aren’t him, Mom. He’s not coming back.”

“I know.”

“Did you hear me, he’s not coming back.”

Her mom nodded, as she placed the frame onto the coffee table, “I know, Nasha.”

“Stop waiting for him, he’s dead, he’s not coming back!”

“Nasha,” her mom began but she cut her off.

“He’s not ever coming back!”

“I know.”

She felt a hiccup in her throat, “He’s never coming back, Mom, never!”

Her mom wrapped her arms around her, and pulled her close, “I know, I miss him, too.”

“He’ll never come back…” she felt tears on her cheeks, when had she started crying?

“I know.”

“He’s never going to come back…”

“I know, baby.”

She sniffled, “He’s gone…”

Her mom nodded against her.

“He left you. He’s gone.”

A calming hand combed through her hair.

“He’s gone, Mom, stop waiting for him.”

Her mom simply kissed her temple as she continued to smooth down her unruly hair that had lost its straight perm.

“You should stop waiting for him, Mom.”

“I still miss him, though.”

“He’s not going to come back, he’s dead.” she sniffled.

“Do you miss him?”

“No.” She mumbled, “How can I miss someone who’s never coming back.”

“Yeah?”

“So you should stop missing him.”

Her mom sighed, “Should I stop missing my mom and dad, too?”

“No… they’re your parents.”

She nodded, “They are, but they’re not coming back, either, Nasha.”

She shook her head against her mom, “But they’re your parents, they didn’t abandon you.”

Her mom kissed her forehead again, “They died, and they weren’t soldiers in the war.”

“And?”

“Does that mean that your dad abandoned you, still?”

“Yes.”

“Why’s that?”

“He didn’t come back, Mom, and he’s never going to.”

“My parents didn’t come back either, and they’re never going to.”

“He broke his promise.”

“My mom said she’d always be with me, but she’s not here, either.”

“But she didn’t kill herself.”

“My dad didn’t kill himself either, but he was still shot by a stray bullet.”

“Your dad didn’t go out with the intent to never come back.”

“Neither did yours, Nasha.”

“Then where is he? I don’t see him anywhere.”

“He’s not coming back, baby, he’s with the stars now.”

She hiccupped, and wrapped her arms around her mother.

“What’s the matter, Daddy?” she asked, as he kept glancing at the front door of their house.

“Nothing, sweetheart, let’s get into the hidden room, okay?” he replied.

Her dad usually called her his little dragon, or princess, he rarely ever called her ‘sweetheart.’ She frowned, there definitely was something going on, he even whispered her mom’s name earlier. “Is this because of the ice?”

He smiled, “We just have to wait until it’s fixed, that’s all.”

“What about Mommy?”

His eyes widened, “Mommy?”

She nodded, she could tell he was worried about her, he kept looking back in the direction that she had seen the smoke ever since they came home, ever since he whispered her name. “Is Mommy coming here, too?”

“Mommy… Your mom is still fighting, sweetie.”

He was calling her nicknames he usually didn’t, “Daddy, am I still your little dragon?”

He nodded, and gave her a big hug, “Of course you are! Now, let’s get into the hidden room, okay, sweetie?”

She frowned, “Okay, Daddy.”

He stopped moving and his face pointed to the door again, eyes wide, and pupils like thin slits in his eyes. She pulled on his shirt a few times, before he turned his attention back to her, his pupils growing in size again. “Let’s hurry up, okay?”

“I’m hurrying, Daddy.”

“I’ll lock the door behind-” he stopped himself short, and his attention was back to the door again. His pupils were slits again, and this time she could see his horns that he hid from her peeking out of his hair, and there were even tiny scales that were showing up on his face.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond, instead more scales started showing up on his face, and his horns grew larger. She pulled at his hand, that also was gaining the scales that his face had. He blinked, and looked down at her, they began to go back to normal, but didn’t fully. “Nothing, sweetie, let’s hurry up.” He nudged her inside before turning around and grabbing at the door. His hand froze in place though, as she watched his ear twitch, and his pupils constrict again. The scales were back, and the horns had grown.

She pulled his shirt, “Daddy, something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

He looked down at her, his eyes didn’t go back to normal this time, “No, nothing’s wrong, I’m just… I’m worried about Mommy.”

“But… Why are you worried about Mommy?” she asked, “Mommy’s going to come back, Mommy always comes back.”

He smiled, “I know, sweetie, but- Lucy!” he exclaimed, attention snapped to the door again.

“Daddy… Do you want to go to Mommy?”

He looked down at her again, “I’ve got to stay with you, sweetie.”

He still wasn’t calling her ‘baby’ or ‘princess’ or ‘dragon,’ and she gripped at her skirt, “Do you want to go to Mommy?” she asked again.

“I trust Mommy.”

She looked at his appearance, before to the door that still hadn’t fully been closed yet, “Do you want to go to Mommy?”

He let go of the handle, and knelt down in front of her, his brace creaking even louder than it had before, “Do you want me to go to Mommy?”

She grabbed his hand, which still hadn’t gone back to normal, it was like when he had his nightmares, “If you’re worried about Mommy, I’m worried about Mommy.”

“I’ve got to be with you, though, baby,” he replied, sweetly. He said one of his nicknames for her, but his appearance hadn’t gone back to normal.

“I’ll be safe in here, Daddy.”

His eyes widened, “Nasha-”

“Do you want to go to Mommy?”

He dropped his head, “You sure are stubborn like your mom,” he looked back up at her, “Do you want me to go to Mommy?”

He was asking that again. She frowned, it was obvious that he wanted to go to her, that he wanted to see if she was safe. She smiled, “I’m a big girl, Daddy. I can wait while you check on Mommy.”

He was hesitant to reply, “But I’ve got to-” his head turned, as if he heard something she couldn’t again, eyes wide, “Lucy…”

“Go to Mommy, Daddy.” She said, pushing him to the door before he could get up.

He looked back at where he had turned his head and back to his daughter. He bit his lip, but the second that there must have been another thing that he had heard that she couldn’t, even though her hearing was better than his. He grabbed at his hair, eyes darting back and forth as if trying to make a decision. He turned his attention back to her again, “Do you trust Daddy?”

“I trust Daddy.”

“Are you going to stay here?” His appearance was going back to normal again.

“I’ll stay here.”

“Don’t open the door, Nasha.”

“I won’t open the door.”

“Are you okay if I go?”

“I’m a big girl, Daddy, I’ll be okay.”

“If Mommy or I knock on the door, then you can open the door, okay, Nasha?” 

“I’ll only open it for Mommy or Daddy.”

“You know our special knock, right Nasha?”

“I know the special knock.”

“Are you okay if I check on Mommy?”

“Go check on Mommy, Daddy.”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He looked the way he was supposed to, now.

“Okay.”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll protect you, okay, Nasha?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll protect both you and Mommy, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.”

“I’ll be back, I promise.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead, before closing the door, locking her inside.

She stared at the door, she couldn’t hear anything outside of the room. She trusted her dad, though. He never broke his promises. She felt her hands shaking, and looked down at them. Why was she shaking? She knew her dad would come back, he’d always come back. Her dad asked if she trusted him, she did. She’d always trust her dad. She turned away from the door, clenching her fists as she stared at the room she was locked inside of, “I’ll wait for Daddy.”

She’ll draw some pictures, read some books, eat some snacks, and set up the place for when her dad comes back. She pulled out the books, choosing the ones that she liked the best for her dad to read to her. Her dad read kind of slowly, and wasn’t as good at telling the story like when her mom read the book, but she liked it when her dad read to her. She could read the books herself, but she preferred when her dad read to her. She’d curl under his arm and turn the pages for him as she embraced his warmth.

She stared at the door again, she didn’t know how long it had been, but the chips she set up in the bowl were getting stale, and the fizzy drink she had poured for the two of them lost all of its bubbles. She had probably already read three of the books she had chosen for him to read, and had drawn at least seven pictures, too. She got up from her spot on the cot, and made her way over to the door, when was he coming home? She didn’t know what time it was, there were no windows in the hidden room. Her hand lifted up to unlock the door, to let herself out, but stopped. Her dad said not to open it. She told him she wouldn’t open it. She had to trust her dad.

Maybe if she took a nap, he’d be here when she woke up. He was probably just taking a break, his brace was making such loud creaking noises when he knelt down, after all. He was probably exhausted because he had run back to the house with her on his back. She snuggled into the cot, staring up at the ceiling, counting the stars that were also on the ceiling of the hidden room. What if his brace broke? No, even if it broke, he’d still come back, he barely ever wore his brace anyway. She had to stop worrying about him, because she trusted him, and he’d come back, and maybe he’d come back with her mom. She yawned, and started counting the stars on the ceiling again. Her dad would be here when she woke up, after all.

The door was still closed, everything looked the same as when she had fallen asleep. Where was her dad? She closed her eyes, and shook her head. Her dad would come back. He had come back before, even if he looked different than he used to look. She didn’t care if he looked even more different than he had done before, he’d be back. Just like he’d done before. She’d read some more books, draw some more pictures, and just stare up at the ceiling in complete silence. If her dad was coming back, then she could wait for him, even if she was bored out of her mind in this room. They had always had things they left in the hidden room to make sure they stayed entertained while they were trapped in the hidden room.

She really didn’t know how much time had passed, but she had even put together a three hundred piece puzzle while he was gone. She kept looking up to the door, and kept taking naps hoping that he’d be there when she woke up. She’d wait for him, she’d always wait for him. He said he’d come back, so she knew he’d come back. Of course he’d come back, he promised her that he’d come back. There was no way he wouldn’t come back, not her Daddy.

She yawned, opening her eyes to see the things that she had left up were all neatly put up. Neatly organized. The cups that she had left the drinks in were now empty, the chips and other snacks were all put away. She jumped up to a sitting position, and looked around the room. Why didn’t he wake her up if he came back? She looked to the door, seeing it slightly open. Her dad was back! She hurriedly got out of the cot, and pushed the heavy door open, and made her way up the stairs, to get out of the basement where the hidden room was hidden. She pushed the door open to the living room, to see her mom collapsed against the couch, holding the scarf that her father cared more about than anything else in the house.

She sniffed the room, she didn’t smell her dad. Her eyes wandered around the room, and she saw that brace that he had been wearing, broken, partially melted, and not on him. Hadn’t he been wearing it when he left? Of course he was, she heard it creaking so loudly. Was he in the kitchen? Was he in the bathroom? Where was he? She came up to her mom, and pulled on her shirt, she was still wearing the clothes that she always wore when she would disappear to fight as her dad said. Her mom looked at her, her body shaking, tears stained on her face, and eyes so red and puffy she could barely see her mom’s large brown eyes. Her mouth was moving but nothing was coming out of it, it seemed like she wanted to tell her something, but couldn’t.

“Where’s Daddy?” Nasha asked.

Her mom’s eyes widened before new tears started coming down her cheeks. She hiccupped, as she opened her mouth again and again, but eventually, she managed to say with a shaking voice, “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry!”

Why was she sorry? She patted her mom’s back, “Don’t cry, Mommy.”

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby!” her mom started crying even more audible than before.

She patted her mom, “Where’s Daddy, Mommy?”

Her mom shook her head, crying as she replied hesitantly, “Daddy… Daddy’s with the stars now.”

Why would he be with the stars? “When’s he coming back?” That's ridiculous. He said he was going to come back.

Her mom’s voice shook some more, as more tears fell out of her eyes, “He’s… not coming back.”

That was silly, her mom was being silly, her dad promised he’d come home. “No, Daddy said he was coming home.”

Her mom shook her head, voice shaking, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Her mom was crying even more than she had been before, she felt her own eyes burning, “Daddy promised he’d come back, Mommy. Daddy’s going to come back, don’t cry.”

Her mom shook her head, caressing her cheek, “Daddy’s… Daddy’s… Daddy’s… never… coming back.”

“You’re lying, Mommy, Daddy promised me that he was going to come back.”

Her mom shook her head, hiccupping as she held her face, “I’m so sorry baby,” she wailed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she was repeating that forever. Pulling her into her embrace, burying her face into her shoulder, holding her tightly as she repeated it over and over and over again. She was apologizing more than she had ever seen her mom apologize before. More than she had ever heard anyone apologize before. Tears started falling out of her eyes now.

“Daddy’s coming back, Mommy,” she sniffled.

She tried to convince her mom so often that her dad was coming back, every time her mom would break into tears. Her mom would instead just apologize profusely every time she said that. Crying and apologizing. Her mom must not trust her dad. Her dad had told her that he’d come back, so of course he was going to come back. Of course he was going to come back. There wasn’t a single way he wouldn’t come back. He was her dad, he always came back.

She stared in silence at the photo. His smiling face staring back at her. Her mom had her dressed in black. They sat next to each other as she watched person after person come up and pay respects to her and her mom. Bowing their heads to her, apologizing to her, giving her a hug with tears in their eyes. Her mom had cried all of her tears out. She sat next to her in silence, eyes unfocused, staring at nothing. She didn’t like seeing her mom like that, but with the amount of people that just kept coming in, laying flower after flower in front of her dad’s picture made her insides turn. It made her stomach hurt. She had gone to events like this before, some of the kids in her class had events like this for their family, even if she wasn’t close with them. Everyone was wearing black. Everyone was crying or sad. Her eyes focused on that picture of her dad.

Oh. That’s what her mom meant when she said he was in the stars. Tears formed in her eyes as she continued to stare at him. That’s why her mom kept apologizing. Her dad… her dad was gone. She sniffled as she stared at the picture. He lied to her. He promised he’d be back, and he wasn’t. He didn’t come back. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she started to cry. Her mom looked over at her, hands shaking as she attempted to comfort her, but instead started crying herself. Her dad… her dad… her dad was never coming back. He broke his promise.

“I hate Daddy…” she wailed.

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She took a deep breath as she entered the building. Her husband was waiting back home for her, with their cat. She needed to tell him. She told him everything. She slowly took the old flowers down, and placed her new flowers that she had brought in their place. Her mother must have come recently, there was even a letter with the flowers that she had left. She left the letter there, and placed the wilted flowers aside, before staring at the picture inside.

She smiled, “Hello, I’m back, again.”

The picture stared back at her in silence. Of course it would.

“I’m sorry… again.”

Again, complete and utter silence.

“I was being selfish, right?” She asked, searching those photographed eyes for something to tell her otherwise. “I… I hated you for so long, I feel like… I feel like I have to keep apologizing, you know? I know that it wasn’t your fault, now, I know everything now.” She smiled, “It took a while to learn it all, not very many people were willing to tell such a tragic tale.”

His picture was smiling at her, giving her the courage to continue.

“I finally got the whole picture. It took years, but I know the whole story now. You really were selfish, Daddy.”

“I’m sorry.”

She blinked, as she stared at the picture, did she just hear him? Or was that her mind talking to her? “I… I wanted to tell you that you were wrong. About a lot of things, back when I was in high school.” She laughed, “Greige and I got married… how… how could you let that happen?”

“I’m happy for you, though.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to be with him, so how could you… how could you let me end up with him in the end?”

“If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I just… Daddy, why… I… I feel like… sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if I had stopped you from going back then. Why couldn’t I stop you back then?”

“You and I were both worried about Mommy, Nasha.”

“I know, but…” Her eyes widened, and she turned around. She wasn’t in the columbarium anymore, wind brushed through her hair, making it all tangled, as the golden field around her blew in the wind. “I… I really miss you, Daddy.”

He smiled, and opened both arms out to her, “I know, my little dragon.”

In a heartbeat she ran up to him, and wrapped her arms around him. His wings were folded against his back, and all the scars she remembered him having were gone. “I really really missed you!”

“But you’re happy, now, right?”

She looked up at him, allowing him to caress her cheek, she nodded, “I am… but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you? Why… Why did you have to go?”

He pressed his forehead against hers, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t change anything, Daddy.” she replied, feeling like a little girl again.

“I know, princess,” he replied, kneeling down, and smoothing a hand over her hair. “I had to protect you and your mom.”

“But… but you left me, Daddy.”

“I know, Nasha, and I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t come back.”

“I know.”

“You broke your promise.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Come back, Daddy.”

“I can’t, Nasha, I can’t come back.”

“But… I’ve done so much now. I’ve gone to high school, I graduated high school, I even went to university, and graduated there! I’m married now, Daddy.”

“You’ve grown so much, and I’m so proud of you.”

“But… you weren’t there for any of it, Daddy.”

He kissed her forehead, before holding her small hands in his, “I… I saw, I watched you grow.”

She shook her head, “You didn’t, you didn’t see any of it, because you weren’t there.”

He smiled, and looked deep into her eyes, “You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman, just like your mom. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

“I… but you didn’t grow with me, Daddy.”

“But I was still with you, baby.”

“Where? You never came back!”

He tapped her young chest with a finger, “I’m in here, Nasha.”

She looked down at his hand, before up into his face, eyes searching his, “But I… I hated you for so long, don’t you hate me for that? You didn’t do anything wrong, you just… you just wanted to protect us.”

“Why would I hate you, Nasha?”

“Because I hated you!”

He smiled and combed through her hair, “That couldn’t make me hate you. You’re my precious little girl, whom I love and cherish.”

“But then you left.”

“I did, but I told you I’d always protect you, Nasha.”

“And… and… you stopped the war, but didn’t come back.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I made you two promises, Nasha, to always protect you, and to come back. I’m sorry I could only fulfill one of them.”

She shook her head, and wrapped her arms around him, “I don’t care about that anymore.”

“Nasha?”

“I… I just miss you so much! You weren’t there, you weren’t there, and I wanted you to be. Mom has your wings, and I wanted you to be there, too. I wanted to see you with those wings again, Daddy, I wanted to jump on your shoulders again. I wanted to make you breakfast in the morning again. I wanted to practice braiding your hair again, I never got to practice that waterfall braid, and I… I still can’t do it, Daddy. I… I want to be your little girl again, can’t… can’t I be that? Can’t I be that little girl again?”

He cupped her face in both his hands, “You will always be my little girl, Nasha. It doesn’t matter if you’re three, four, eight, sixteen, or…” he smiled, as he looked up at her, slowly standing so that he was taller than her again, “twenty-nine.”

She hiccupped. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked up at him, not as a little eight year old girl whining to her dad, but as a full grown woman who was finally able to let him go. Of course she’d always miss him, of course she’d always love him, but she wasn’t going to hate him like she did growing up. She wasn’t going to long for his presence like she had so often throughout university, and she wasn’t going to wish he’d help her out of her troubles when she was searching for her first job.

“I’ll always love you, Daddy.”

“And I’ll always love you, Nasha.”

“You’ll always be my Daddy, right?”

“Of course, Nasha.”

“I can still visit you, right?”

“Of course.”

“Just because I’m not going to live in this town anymore doesn’t mean I can’t visit, right, Daddy?”

“Of course, baby,” he kissed her forehead, and held her shoulders, “You’re married now. I gave you away.”

Her voice shook, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not my Daddy anymore, right?”

He shook his head, “I’ll always be your Daddy, just like you’ll always be my little girl.”

“And you’ll always love me?”

“I’ll always love you.”

“And you’ll always protect me?”

“I’ll always protect you.”

“And you’ll never leave me?”

He smiled, “I’ll always be here for you, Nasha, but… you’re a big girl now. You’ve got a new life ahead of you. Whenever you need me, I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled, hiccupping through her tears. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly, as if he would completely vanish the second she let go. “I love you, Daddy.”

“And I love you, Nasha.”

She pulled away from him, looking up at him, as he looked back at her with those kind eyes she had always known. Only one warm arm held her, as his appearance took that of what she had remembered most. The scars on his face, the lack of wings, and the one arm that held her so tightly, but willingly let go of her. “I love you more, Daddy.”

He shook his head, “I don’t think so, Nasha, nothing can compare to my love for you. Have a beautiful life, my little dragon.”

She sniffled as she stared at his picture again. The gold detailing on the frames, and the intricate painting on his urn made his spot in the aisle look all that more special. She wiped her eyes, and pressed her forehead against the glass, “You’ll always be my Daddy, Daddy. Nobody can ever be better than you. I love you, and I miss you. I wish you were here, but Daddy, I’m happy now. I really am. I know you’re proud of me, I know you’d be. So, I’ll see you again soon. I promise, Daddy.”

She pushed away from the glass, smiling at his picture before turning around to make her way out of the building. A warm gust of wind engulfed her the second she opened the doors, as if telling her to turn around, to go back in there. She smiled, and wiped her eyes, turning back, listening to the wind. Her eyes softened as she swore she saw him standing there, a huge smile on his face, as if to tell her that he was proud of all that she had accomplished. Tears were in the corners of her eyes, as a soft smile spread across her face. “I’ll be back, I promise.”