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Ansar and Sage's relationship wasn't an easy thing, and their current closeness didn't come without struggle. There were times where Sage hated their father, and Ansar treated Sage like a shrine to their mother.
But that was ten years ago now, and Sage did not struggle to forgive him then, so perhaps he shouldn't be surprised that they'd forgiven Shana, too.
But Ansar struggles to understand it anyway. Especially as he watches Sage pack their clothes into a large duffel bag resting on their bed.
"Are you sure about this, Vinea?"
The question comes out after much deliberation, and it gives Sage pause. Hearing their given name is always a bit disorienting; the only ones who call them it are family. When they chose their name, Sage, Vinea wasn't buried so much as it was placed high on a shelf, only for a select few to use.
Select few, like Ansar.
"Yes," Sage states, zipping the bag with a little too much force. "So you gotta find someone else to be your assistant this semester."
Ansar makes an irate face for a second. For a moment, Sage is infuriating—though that's nothing new. So he sighs, and remembers years of adapting to their too-similar communication styles.
"Are you sure you will be fine, traveling with your band?" he asks, and Sage's brows twitch as they frown.
What is he talking about? They've been making music with Lyra since they were 17, they're Sage's best friends. Why wouldn't they be okay with them?
"I don't hate traveling," Sage says, unsure about what exactly is happening with their father right now. "We visit aunt Juliette and aunt Camille all the time."
Ansar sighs sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he steps into their bedroom. "You're misunderstanding."
"Then be clearer," Sage deadpans, crossing their arms as they sit on their bed. Ansar stands before them, mirroring the crossed-armed gesture. "Is this about doing music full time?"
In the past, Ansar had made his opinion clear: Sage was being careless, how it's not what he envisioned for them, how they're wasting their degree in mathematics and their teaching certificate, how he wished for more security for their life.
But Sage thought they'd already settled on agreeing to disagree. Ansar seems to affirm that when he rolls his eyes with a sigh.
"As we've discussed," he says pointedly, "it is out of my hands. And I intend to support you regardless." He softens slightly, worry creasing his brows. "I am… affirming that you are aware that… Shana will be with you."
Sage's brows furrow. "Yeah? She's our singer."
"Yes," his tone is tight, carefully controlled. "I'm aware. Are you aware that Duckstein will be present as well? Are you content with that?"
Sage blinks, eyes widening with mild recognition. Ah. So that's what this is about. Figures. Though Sage has forgiven Shana, and Ansar doesn't hate her either… he also hasn't forgotten about everything. It makes Sage's chest feel fuller, to know their father cares about their friends, their heart, and not just finances.
"I don't care what they do," Sage says, shrugging. "I'm not dating Seven anymore. Shana can do what she wants."
Ansar frowns, a brow quirked in a silent question that makes Sage a little frustrated. Does he even know why they were so upset about everything?
"I would not forgive their actions so easily," he says, almost judging, which makes Sage rolls their eyes—obivously. But they're not him, even if they wonder if he cloned himself sometimes.
"I don't care that they kissed," Sage shrugs, crossing their ankles, pinning their hands between their thighs. "They were drunk. It's fine."
Ansar tilts his head. "You broke up with Seven and did not speak with Shana for three months."
Sage scoffs. "Seven left first. We were broken up before they told me." That was the worst part, to Sage; that Shana would have died keeping it secret, and Seven only told them when she wanted to hurt them.
They shake their head. They'd known there was something romantic going on with Seven and Shana, they even confronted both of them about it. Seven had been defensive, and Shana had admitted she felt that way towards Seven, but Seven only loved Sage—which, in hindsight, Shana did truly believe that. Regardless of it was true.
Being frank, Sage wouldn't have cared if Seven was in love with Shana—they just wanted to know. If Seven had talked to Sage, they could've figured something out… Sage didn't care about the kiss, they cared about it being a secret.
Sage hates secrets. They always have. They wonder if it's their personality, or something inherited, but it doesn't really matter. What matters is that Seven and Shana kept a secret that if shared, Sage wouldn't have cared that much about. Shana is polyamorous, Sage doesn't mind sharing, they could've worked something out.
But they lied. And nothing got fixed because of it.
"They lied," Sage says finally. "I don't care that they kissed, or liked each other. I care that they lied about it."
Shana and Seven fucked up, point blank. But Shana has done everything to make up for it, and Sage doesn't think either she nor Seven are evil for what happened—just stupid. Stupidity isn't an irredeemable offense, so long as you make efforts to change; which Shana has done. As far as Sage is concerned, that chapter's closed.
Ansar studies Sage, clearly looking for traces of lying. When he finds none, he hums, slightly satisfied.
"Just because you are no longer romantically involved with Duckstein," he starts, giving Sage a firm look over his glasses, "that does not mean you are not allowed to be upset should Shana pursue something with her."
Sage makes a face, their nose wrinkling and eyes crinkling—they're not dating Seven anymore, what claim do they have on who she dates? Not to mention, with how deep Shana's regret runs, they can't imagine her making the same mistake twice. They themselves wouldn't, why would anyone? It isn't logical.
Seemingly noticing he's not getting through to his child, he rolls his eyes and takes a step back. "Your aunts want to treat you to a meal before you leave. Let me know when you would like to do so, and what you want to do."
Sage relaxes a bit, nodding. "'Kay. Gonna finish packing. We can do tonight if it's okay with you and them."
Ansar nods. "Fine. I'll let them know." He turns to leave, then hesitates. With his face turned away, he adds, "I am proud of you. It is no small thing, what Lyra has done."
Sage straightens, pride mixing with something… weird. Fear, perhaps. Bitterness, that Lyra biggest hits are tracks written about the darkest times between Shana and themselves.
Even so, praise from their father is rare, and fills them with some measure of confidence. It doesn't feel bad.
"Thanks, dad."
Ansar straightens, nods, and leaves their room without another word. It's not new behavior, these stilted exits, and if Rowan saw it, he'd tease Sage about them being like a pair of solitary cats occassionally acknowledging each other.
Sage doesn't mind. They prefer this over the hovering of other parents, or the ignorance of Shana's. Honestly, they feel like they got lucky to have a father so dedicated to meeting them half way, and supporting them despite their differences.
A father who supports them, and a cousin who is their best friend. Those are lucky things, as far as Sage is concerned.