LEILANI SERENNO bridged the past and the present, born into a family of cruelty and then groomed to fulfil a role in the grand scheme of things. She was a puppet manipulated by her brother, ensnared in a larger narrative orchestrated by the Force. Y...
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"You're removing the bounty on those three fugitives?" Leilani asks master Windu through the holo, more so in disbelief.
Windu moves his hand forward. "If they are free to move, they could lead back to Eval's operation," he explains.
And of course, that is more important than locking up Obi-Wan's murderer...
"Very well," she nods slowly. The hologram flickered out, Master Windu's image dissolving into empty air, leaving only the quiet hum of the transmitter behind. Leilani stood still, her fingers lingering at her side, curled just slightly, as if grasping for something that wasn't there.
Removing the bounty. Letting them roam free.
She knew why—it made sense. The Jedi needed to see where Eval's operation led. But logic did little to smother the fire still burning low in her chest. It was always the same. The mission. The war. The greater goal. And somewhere in between, the dead were forgotten, left to be statistics in a long, unending list of losses.
Her thoughts pulled tight, coiling around her ribs, until the faintest shift in the air made her exhale.
Of course. Of course, it was never about Obi-Wan. It never had been.
A quiet presence stirred in the doorway.
She didn't need to turn. She had already felt him.
Anakin had been standing there, listening, unmoving. His emotions filled the space like a rising tide, barely held at bay beneath his skin.
Leilani turned to face him, her gaze softening. He wasn't trying to mask it anymore—not here, not with her. His shoulders were drawn tight, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
"I don't like this any more than you do," she said, her voice gentle.
Something in Anakin's expression cracked. His jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists.
"It isn't fair," he muttered, and for the first time in days, his voice wasn't full of rage. It was smaller. Tired.
Leilani nodded, stepping forward. "No," she murmured. "It isn't."
He stared at the floor, his shoulders rising and falling like he was trying to keep himself together. So much anger. So much grief. And no one to help him carry it.
She had seen this before. In him. In herself.
Carefully, she reached out and brushed her fingers against his arm, a light touch—barely there, but grounding. A silent reassurance. A quiet permission.
And then, as if something inside him finally caved, Anakin moved.
Not away. Toward her.
He let out a breath, one that sounded almost broken, and without hesitation, she reached up and pulled him into her arms.
