the only exception | bakugou katsuki

28 | quellings of quasars

Deep down, Yuna knows how to let go—to let go of mistakes made from a past that became a part of herself and turn those into strength and merriment. To let go of tragedies of the simplest things even if it didn't involve her, but knows she was a witness to all those things one would call reality—the reality that life goes on and moves forward and change. Change for the better and for the worst.

Yuna believed it was a little bit of both, but mostly for the better. Even if it meant going through a path alone towards her true dream.

That's why she visited her brother once again. Perhaps for the last time. Because coming back means buffering in play, stepping back every so often in life to make sure she won't make any mistakes when she had to.

It was drizzling like the last time, the same kind of weather when one would be sombre but not quite—a moment of reminiscing with vague silence as she solemnly stared at the carved name on her brother's grave. The same withered flowers were gone, and by gone she meant everything—the dried petals all gathered in the small pot leaving with the branches and stems adorning the dull grave, with no vibrancy in sight to enlighten an angel's bed.

"Hey, Rii."

She spoke in a whisper as if she was talking to herself, but that's okay. It's just the two of them alone. A conversation between mortals—the perfect place and weather to feel less lonely than the impending broken home she would go to.

"You know why I'm here," her eyes blankly fixated on the granite stone. "Because something happened. And I'm here because of that. Because things are going to change. Not just me, but everything."

Her mother's words resonated her mind—Yuna tries not to tear up.

"Mum's changing. Obviously." She forced a chuckle, wiping away a raindrop that fell on her cheek. "Dad too. Well, only because she sent him to rehab. It's not a bad idea.. even though I was pissed off at mum for not telling me."

A faint smile tugged on her lips, gaze flickering back to Rii's name.

"Now I'm all alone."

Yuna almost chuckled to herself and looks up to the grey sky with a sigh.

"But you know me. I can take care of myself. I'm not a kid anymore."

She closed her eyes.

"It's just.. it all happened too fast. That's why I..um.."

Another raindrop fell on her cheek.

"That's why I.. felt like leaving. You know—running away? It was only last night I did that." She laughed sadly. "But I can't leave without saying goodbye to you. I can't let go without you or else I won't be able to grow up like you want me to."

Yuna faced the grave again, tightly gripping the skateboard in her hand the entire time since she came here—the tattered, old looking board that could still work wonders whenever she skate down the streets with a bright smile, feeling alive and carefree—just as she was back in the day she used to share her life with Rii.

Yuna shifts her gaze to the board. "Since I don't skate much these days, might as well I give this back to you."

She lifted the board with ease and gently place it on the side of the tombstone, but her hand still lingered on the rough surface of the board.

"It's yours to begin with. Plus, you gave me this board when you don't skate anymore. Because you were prepping for college. You were changing and growing. Grew into the big, best damn brother I've ever had."

A chuckle abruptly left her lips as she finally broke the dam of her tears.

"And now, I'm changing too. I'm gonna graduate and go out to be the best damn singer in a rock band," she laughed to herself. "I don't know if that's possible, but someone made it sound like it would."