☆Wish Upon A Star☆

☆~Chapter 8~☆

The disabled man's eyes widened just slightly at the sight of his own daughter, his youngest, eternally slept.

She laid limply, wrapped in a black velvet sheet that matched with the jet black coffin she would be caged in for eternity. Golden ornaments decorated the lacquered wood, forming intricate designs at the sides of the spiritual box.

Her skin was perfectly pale, not a drop or stain of blood left in her. Her skull and neck had been put back to its natural place, in an attempt to make the corpse more graceful.

Her eyes, still clamped open at the moment of her death, had been slid shut gently by the servants who had taken care by her body.

If not by the horrible scars on her head and neck, sewn in an attempt to close the wounds for the funeral, she would seem asleep.

Her brother stood behind of the polished coffin, towering over his sister's body in a rage-filled mess of clenched jaws and tightly shut fists.

Her sister had knelt next to the box. Wrapped in dark clothing from head to toe, she sobbed uncontrollably at the sight of her beloved sister dead in such a painful way. Twisting the black cloth she would use as a scarf later, he mumbled priers and begs to the Gods for Natalya to go safe, in her way to the other side. She had always been the only Braginski to believe in superior beings.

But her father was different. He just stared at her, not a hint of emotion tensing his old muscles. Truth was, he almost hadn't seen Natalya grow. He had used a young woman to have a third heir, and killed her after she gave birth.

Ekaterina had been the one to raise her. She had been a mother to Natalya, a mother with a sister's confidence.

The sun shone bright for a Northern winter. The perfect layer of white snow that coated the floor was still freezing, gleaming under the sunlight.

Such a beautiful day, for such a sad moment.

Just another reminder of how a mafia's life was. Secret, dark, hidden from everyone's bright existence. A life of silent suffering and private events.

The only sounds heard, apart from Ekaterina's crying and a few birds singing to sunrise, were the soft, muffled noises of Edward's shovel clawing into the snowy, dirty ground and digging a hole big enough for a coffin.

A private life.

The servants closed the cage, trapping Natalya's still, post-mortem beauty forever.

Apart from everyone else's sight.

They pushed the coffin in the hole, ignoring Ekaterina's sobs and Ivan's glare.

No one can know about a mafia's internal working without it being dangerous.

But, over all, ignoring the oldest Braginski's void stare as his Estonian slave covered the black box with dirt and mud and snow.

And of course, no one can know about a mafia's revenge wishes.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Yao's face lit up in a bright, hope-filled smile by the moment he stepped into Ivan's home.

"I-It's beautiful!" He managed to squeak out, covering his big grin to don't scream in joy.

Ivan grinned softly, wrapping the arm he wasn't using to hold Yao's bag around the Chinese man's waist. "Thank you, love," Kiku sighed behind them, dragging his backpack with school stuff and another bag with clothes and things he could need. Somehow, he did notice the reddened skin under Ivan's eyes and the quietness of his voice. He decided to shrug it off, maybe he had just drunk vodka, like he used to; as Yao had told him.