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The group of small children marvelled at their friend's skills with the jump rope.
Hunter sat on a bench across from them at the human realm park, watching them as they waddled around the playground area.
They certainly had his attention today, which was a sign that he wasn't as numbed out. The depression still ebbed and flowed, but as per plenty of patient psychoeducation from his therapist in the Boiling Isles and advice from his found family, some time occasionally spent outdoors did him a bit of good.
Listening to the children's laughter, he remembered a similar sight whenever he happened to be patrolling near the Bonesborough Slayground…so long ago. He remembered, at such a young age, trying to draw parallels between a shared play session among young toddlers and the camaraderie among the scouts in the Emperor's Coven.
Now, an eternity (and a near-complete loss of his childhood) later, the fresh springtime air could really be felt in the form of a breeze, and warm sunshine peeked through the cloud cover above. Somehow, he survived that old life.
He adjusted his beanie hat, in case the wind blew it out of place and gave his pointy ears away.
Willow and in addition, his therapist, had made suggestions that he use his scroll to photograph the emerging springtime flora in the human realm.
He felt that it was sort of pointless, but it was nice how the flowers reminded him of Willow. With repeated but gentle nudges from his loved ones, he also had flyer derby to look forward to (he'd started playing again about a month ago, with Stringbean's help) until familiar footsteps got closer and closer.
Opening his eyes, he looked to the side and stood up to greet Camila.
"Hi, mama," he said, with a bit of lingering tiredness evident in his voice.
"Hi, mijo," she replied, setting down the two big bags of groceries she was carrying.
Hunter knew the drill, but didn't mind one bit. He was beginning to get used to it. Initiating a hug undeniably made him feel more like a Noceda, like he was fitting in with this kind family that chose to take him in, even after everything he'd done.
He hadn't yet decided whether it would be an official thing or not: to choose the Noceda name as his own. But nobody was rushing him for that, instead giving him all the space he needed to mull over it.
He put his arms around Camila, squeezing gently and cautiously resting his chin on her shoulder. His breathing remained even.
She returned the embrace, mindful of how alert he was by default, how sensitive he was to any other person's body language.
They pulled away after a couple of moments. Briefly, Hunter found that his gaze drifted to the same group of kids who were now playing in the sandbox.
"Come, mom — I'll help," he muttered, reaching for both the shopping bags. The memory of having to physically support Belos during one of his curse-related coughing fits flashed across his mind.
He remembered carefully slinging the Emperor's arm over his shoulder, hoisting him up and helping him to stay balanced as they headed to the throne room, just as the meeting with the Coven Heads had barely begun.
Most of all, he now saw in retrospect how hypervigilant he'd been. As he'd thawed out of survival mode in the previous months, gradually sharing more and more of his painful past in therapy, he grieved the broken picture that was Belos's highly conditional love.
Camila had always been appreciative of how attentive he was, now resting a hand on his shoulder as he snapped out of those memories. "Gracias, cariño."
They began making their way to the parked car near where the playground was.
Every second Hunter spent in proximity to his 'uncle' meant anticipating a loss of the latter's temper and composure, whilst he himself had to adhere…comply…and maintain composure…or else. That was a life he'd never expected to leave behind, despite dreaming of that deep down. On some days, it still felt rather strange to not be marching down the castle's hallways anymore.
What a relief that Camila was not nearly as volatile as Belos; in fact, she extended so much care to anything and anyone she encountered. Hunter had learnt during that first summer in the human world that she specialized in being a healer for human realm animals.
But he also observed the solid trust established between her and Luz, and between her and Vee as well. Where the Emperor desired to use others for his own gain, she lifted others up with zero strings attached, and provided warmth and safety for them.
He trusted Camila more and more as he saw how her tenderness reached far beyond her work duties, to anybody in need. Much like what he wished to do: more so after leaving that dreaded coven, more so upon the realization that his 'uncle' had put up a facade of wanting to guide others towards "the good of their souls".
Before this, Hunter hadn't spared any thought for how wonderful a parent could even be, much less for how such a wonderful parent would become his own parent one day.
He'd been preoccupied with the hope for literal survival in his old life, which culminated in the moment that he sacrificed himself to protect his friends on that night at the lake.
As he walked with his mom to the car at this moment, his mind flashed back to something Luz mentioned when they'd regrouped a few hours after Belos's defeat.
"Thank Titan, mamá got you out of the lake."
Only then had it properly hit him that before Flapjack revived him, Camila had jumped into those freezing dark waters to bring him back up.
He had to go and thank her, of course.
When things quietened down enough at Eda's empty house, he remembered how he fidgeted, as he nervously approached Camila and asked for a moment alone to speak with her.
"Hunter, what's wrong?" she tilted her head to the side.
He almost wanted to chuckle at how he'd just spent several hours with awful lake water in his hair and clothes (and socks!). But he was beyond exhausted.
Clearing his throat, he wanted to inch a bit closer to Camila, but the nerves kept him glued to where he stood.
"I-I guess things got a little too crazy after what happened at the graveyard. But…I wanted to thank you, Camila. For saving me."
"Of course. Of course," she had answered.
She was hesitant at first, but couldn't see herself not reaching out a little more. Slowly, she stepped forward a tiny bit and brought a hand to his cheek, "Baby, there was no way we were going to leave you down there."
He recalled the confusing emotions that welled up violently in him, and how he'd felt his lips quivering. But with the last reserves of his strength, he'd quelled those feelings and stuffed them back down.
Bringing both hands around his arms to make himself smaller, he'd remarked while turning his head away, "Y-you didn't have to do that. I don't get it."
A signpost showing the symbol of Gravesfield shook him out of the reverie. It would never get old…how eerie it was that the same symbol was sewn onto his beloved old cloak for years.
Today, months later, he felt that perhaps he understood, even if a little. It was a faint flicker deep within him, where Flapjack's soul resided.
"So, did you manage to explore the town a little?" Camila smiled.
"Y-yeah, you could say that," said Hunter, his voice a little more animated than it was flat. "I dropped by the zoo for a while, then the bookstore."
Camila felt joy seeing him respond quite promptly these days, as he was slowly coming out of almost five months' worth of the crippling depression.
Hunter recalled being aged 9 or 10, faced with the sight of a father and his child at the slayground. He recalled the sense of longing that crept up within, as the dad rushed towards the young kid and scooped her up in his arms while they both chuckled. Since Belos was well out of sight during this session of scout training, he allowed himself to ponder this world outside of his, where the rules seemed…rather different.
It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed this type of powerful bond. He'd taken notice of how carefree both a parent and a child could be together: a luxury that he, upon looking back, didn't have with Belos.
Everything had to remain measured and be thought through meticulously, when it came to the late Emperor.
"Mijo? You okay?" came the sound of Camila's words.
He sent a silent "thank you" to Flapjack's essence deep down. Here he was, able to embark on a little adventure around his not-so-new-but-weirdly-new home on this side of a portal door. Not on a patrol, whereby he had to watch his back at every turn and plot out every exit or escape route.
With that, he grinned.
"I'm just glad you're here…mamá."
Saying "mamá" or "mom" continued to feel more foreign than not. But more than anything, he searched for a feeling of home. Family. Safety.
That winter morning, eons ago, when he inherited the staff of the Golden Guard that came before him, was one of the few days when Hunter could let his guard down enough to smile more freely, express joy, and exclaim how thankful he was for what life had to offer.
Maybe now, numerous winters later in this other world outside the demon realm, where the season was changing to spring, he would connect with joy again. A fuller joy than ever before.
There was some lore about Cosmic Frontier that he now thought about; it'd be kind of fun to talk about it with Camila during this car ride.
"It…felt good to be out and about," he rested easy in the front passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt across to buckle in.