Chapter Five

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"So, let me get this straight..." Leaning back into the armchair, Bruno standing across from you, you tried to find a way to piece everything together. Moving your hands around in the empty space in front of you, you found your Tío staring intently, as if waiting for them to do something.

"Do you need time to...comprehend everything?" he tried asking, his voice unsteady, and small. You shook your head, and slumped into the chair. You created a little flicker of nothing but a spark, weaving it between your fingers. Bruno watched with great interest, up until it dissipated and you sat forward with your elbows on your knees.

"Ten years ago, when Mirabel—" You paused, trying to think up the right words. "When the Gifting Ceremony didn't work...Abuela had asked you to look into the future? To see what could be hurting the magic..." You looked up at Bruno, and he nodded, almost sadly. "What you saw when you did look...it was Mirabel. You saw her standing before Casita...as it was cracking and crumbling. But the vision itself wasn't very clear, so it was open for interpretation?" Bruno shrugged, in a 'yeah, basically' motion. "You saw the candle going out. The magic...dying. And you saw Mirabel at the center of it all. So some way or another, she'd either save or destroy everything Abuela values most in the world: the miracle. What is provided for the Encanto, through the family." Another short nod from Bruno. "But...because of your reputation in the Encanto...you knew everyone would assume the worst of Mirabel. Think she was...intentionally trying to hurt the miracle. The family. So...you left to try and protect her from all of that. Give her somewhat of a decent life, without that vision of yours hanging over her head like a target." The man avoided looking at you in the eye, instead fiddled with the frayed seam of his ruana. He looked shameful, and frail. As though the "miracle" part of his gift had died out long before he had, leaving him more of a hollow shell with magical properties.

"Tío Bruno..." You sat back again, and let your hands fall into your lap. Meanwhile Bruno's hands would not stop twisting themselves into each other as he timidly looked at you, afraid of what you may say, or think, of him.

"I still love my family, Y/n...I just...my gift—it didn't..." he moved his hands around in a circular motion, struggling to find a way to convey his thoughts into comprehensive sentence structures. "It wasn't really helping the family. I never wanted to be an inconvenience. I think a lot of people just kinda got the wrong idea on what I was trying to do..."

Looking around Bruno's small, poorly furnished, makeshift bedroom hidden away in the walls, you felt a pang of something like guilt gnawing away at your stomach.

At least now one thing made sense. Dolores' constant fascination with staying in the dining room after the table has been cleared, and her quiet whispers to the portrait on Pepa's and Julieta's birthdays. She must have been talking to Bruno all these years. Of course, with him so close at all times, it made sense she would obviously hear him every day.

You stared down at your hands, flexing your fingers around the soft pulse of light in your palms. Bruno watched as the little streak bounced around in your hands, almost drawn to the display, as everyone else in the Encanto was.

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Surely they wouldn't have blamed it on Mirabel? Or on you?"

Bruno shook his head dejectedly.

"No, kid...it wouldn't have worked that way. Somehow it would have gotten out. I would have said something small to someone...and it would have gotten out. No one would ever look at or treat Mirabel the same way again. The girl already hadn't gotten a gift that night...I wasn't going to be the reason she was in constant pain for the rest of her life. It was...better, this way."

Your heart hurt at the sight of the man who'd given up everything, to protect your friend. Standing up, you decided to lean against the small makeshift stand beside him, and lean your head on his shoulder. This time, he wasn't tense.

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