Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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MARCH THIRTEENTH, TWO THOUSAND AND EIGHTEEN
23:42 at night
SORA STOOD IN THE nursery room, rocking Rin in his arms, the night sky watching them. The moon sat high above, a pearl on a bed of darkness. Stars winked like diamonds among the blackness, and the air was cool. He stared at the stars for a long time, wondering where they came from, why they were there, and how he could get to them, but all he could see was white and the faintest glimmer of blue, a promise that things would be different soon.
Sora didn't want things to be different. He wanted things to return to how they were months ago.
Rin stirred slightly as Sora continued to rock him, shifting to get comfortable against his bare chest. He had gone to take a shower, cleaning himself and washing away the vulnerabilities that stained his skin.
"Aa." Rin made a small sound, a call for attention, and Sora looked down. He saw a reflection of himself staring back up at him.
"Hey, baby," he said. "You alright?"
Rin kept staring at him, and Sora found himself noticing just how similar they were. He and Rin both had cerulean eyes like the sea; his were lighter than Rin's, though. Their faces were alike, too. They had the same bone structure—high cheekbones, crooked jaw, slanted eyes. Rin's face was still blessed with the roundness of youth, and Sora reached forward to pinch his cheeks lightly.
"You look just like me, huh?" he mused, watching as Rin blinked, mouth opening and closing slowly like a fish out of water.
And then he smiled.
He looked just like her.
Sora's heart stopped.
His lips quivered and tears collected in his eyes. Grief sat in between his ribs and pressed against his lungs. He clutched Rin tighter, burying his nose into his growing hair. Rin made a soft noise of protest but didn't move, shifting comfortably in his swaddle.
"I take it back," he sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut. "You look just like your mom."
The dead don't vanish. They live all around us. They're in our family members; the way they act, the way they speak. They're in our favourite food; the spices you had when you were a child, the meals you shared with them. They're in our favourite song, in our favourite poem. We have written down their names in our memories, their favourite flowers, how they felt about us. The dead are in us.
When those we cherish tragically pass, they don't vanish. They are left behind, in the pieces of themselves that have been branded into our hearts. Don't ever forget that.
━━━ ♔ • ♛ • ♔ ━━━
"We brought you some food," Oikawa announced as he stepped into Sora's house with Kageyama and Kindaichi behind him.
