"𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐮!" | maria clara at ibarra oneshots [HIATUS]

your voice that used to fill these now empty halls.

This one-shot contains possible triggering content that may not be comfortable with the reader. This discusses themes of implied suicide, possible trauma, and the aftermath. Please skip if you feel any ounce of unease or uncomfort. If I miss any trigger warings, please point out so.

—

CRISOSTOMO SITS ALONE.

He had grown used to the fact of how quiet the house became. Especially when Miss Klay went to live under Maria Clara's roof.

He remembers when Fidel first mentioned the eerie stillness that enveloped the home. The voice that used to fill these now empty halls, was gone like the wind.

It had been different then. Fidel still had his boyish charm. When Fidel still tried to find ways to entertain himself by teasing Klay with his playful insults and jabs.

Today was supposed to seem indifferent.

But no.

Everything was different now.

Maria still visited him and he still visited her. They still spent time with each other. But despite the warmth in her voice whenever she chatted with him, he can still see how she felt unease. When she would pick on the skin of her fingers, when she would rub on her arms whenever she felt uneasy.

He can still see her movements were stiff, so unlike the grace she used to have. She struggles with her words some times. He seems to be the only one who noticed.

It was heart breaking.

Fidel was also different now. He overworks himself to a worrying extent. He doesn't let himself get distracted and he throws himself at his work, not leaving any free time for any basic necessities other than eating or sleeping.

Ibarra still tries to visit his friend at his company. He still attempts to have a conversation with the man. Ibarra honestly doesn't care anymore about the topic of their discussion. He just wants to talk to his amigo again. But every time, Fidel would just tiredly smile at him and apologise, and tells him that he's busy.

Fidel rarely visits Ibarra's residence now. But the rare times he does, Ibarra can see his friend slowly lose himself to grief. He can see the disheveled clothes. His unkempt hair, loosely held up with his hat.

Ibarra could only hope for his amigo's recovery. He does not blame Fidel for mourning, not when he lost the love of his life right before his eyes. But he wishes he could help his friend in need.

Though, Ibarra was no different to the both of them.

He catches himself look at Maria far longer than how he usually does. How he feels his heart rate spike whenever he sees her stand a little to close by an open window. He catches himself instinctively hold her wrist whenever he feels unease when he is reminded of that night.

And Maria understands. She holds his hands and squeezes it tight, as she smiles at him sadly.

He sits alone in his office, only the chirps and whistles of the birds can be heard echoing in the empty halls of his home.

Everything was different now. And all of it started when they witnessed Klay jump off of the church tower.

—

AN: This was shorter than my usual five hundrend worded oneshots, I seem to have lost my touch in writing haha. You lot are probably confused with the plot but I promise it'll make sense after I finished a much longer oneshot that's the prequel (or should I say, the previous part?) of this oneshot!