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CHAPTER SIX the 'fun' in 'funeral'
⋆*✧･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:
RAIN WAS MEANT for funerals, Nadine thought, listening to the thunder rumbling in the distance as she made her way back into the courtyard where, not even an hour earlier, Number Five had appeared. Opening her fish umbrella (everyone else's umbrellas—except Klaus's—were black, fitting the somber mood, but it wasn't like Nadine had known she was going to be attending a funeral when she got here) and holding it over her head, Nadine looked around the courtyard, this time taking in all of the details she'd been too preoccupied to notice the first time. There was a statue of Ben Hargreeves, glazed with rainwater that dripped off his sculpted face like tears. Branches wove up the side of the house, and there was a garden of green bushes that she ran her hands over as she walked to the center of the courtyard.
She hadn't wanted to stay for the funeral at first, but after everything that had happened with Five, Nadine thought it was best to stick close. The boy, even though he was an asshole, was intriguing, and his tendency to give cryptic responses to genuine questions only fueled her curiosity. He was now wearing his Umbrella Academy uniform, presumably the only clothes his size he'd found at the house, and he strode out here like he'd been home this entire time. Nadine's eyes followed him as he did so, her mind still reeling. What were the odds that he'd come back on the day she arrived?
Luther clutched the urn that held the remains of Reginald Hargreeves in both hands. After learning that the man wasn't the person Nadine had always believed he was, she eyed it with newfound knowledge, wondering if she should be glad he'd passed away or not (which was a horrible thing to think about during a funeral. But she couldn't help it).
Everyone gathered here, including Pogo, and even Grace, the Hargreeves' robot mother that Nadine hadn't met yet. A pearl necklace sat on her throat and her hair was tucked into a bun. She stared around cluelessly, an ever-present smile on her face. "Did something happen?"
"Dad died," said Allison, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Remember?"
Grace's smile faded. "Oh. Yes, of course."
"Is Mom okay?" Allison questioned the others.
Diego, who was currently being soaked by the rain (he hadn't brought an umbrella—probably to seem more 'masculine' or something. Nadine didn't see how holding something over your head made you a woman, but what did she know?), nodded. "Yeah, yeah, she's fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge." As he spoke, Klaus discreetly slipped a cigarette into his mouth.
Pogo limped over, using a cane to walk. "Whenever you're ready, dear boy," he told Luther, who took a moment to stare at the urn in his hand, his breath misting out in front of him, before stepping forward and lifting off the lid. He then proceeded to dump the contents unceremoniously onto the ground, where they landed in a pathetic little gray heap. Nadine stared down at them. The great Reginald Hargreeves, reduced to an ash pile on the ground.
