"Everything is going to be fine."
That was what her mother had always told her. She was only a little girl, age could be counted with two hands.
So she just trusted her mother. She had to.
Because it was her mother who said so.
Mom never lied.
Eventhough her face had become too pale. Voice too weak.
She believed her. She tried to.
Eventhough they were putting her six feet beneath the soil.
Everything is going to be fine
She thought as she hugged her knees tight.
Hiding.
Shivering.
She kept telling herself the thing.
As her father went berserk, throwing things inside the house.
Everything is going to be fine
She told herself.
As she watched the man she adored
turned into someone she had never known.
Everything is going to be fine
That was the only thing she clinged into.
The only thing.
And she was the only one who could (and would) tell her that.
So it was natural when she kept saying that thing to herself
on and on
when she felt her personal space had been intruded
by a certain black-haired city boy, whom her father referred to as his apprentice.
(Who, apparently, got to live with them from that day on.)
Everything is going to be fine
She just sat there, silently.
Confused.
Agape.
Eyes wide.
Everytime her nightmares crept in and woke her up, she would expect to meet the dull ceiling of her bedroom.
Inhaled, exhaled, trying to calm her irregular breathing.
Telling herself the thing. And went back to her slumber.
Honestly, she didn't know how to react
when she jolted awake from the pavor nocturnus
only to find a pair of concerned black eyes staring at her.
Hand inches from her shoulder, clearly showing his hesitation whether to touch her or not.
But it was not the plastered worried expression across his face that made her puzzled.
Not that.
It was because of the way he assured her
"Everything is going to be fine."
(That was when she realised, perhaps she and her mother were not the only ones who would bother telling her that.)
Everything is going to be fine
She grew up believing
that those words were blatant, sugar-coated lie
eventhough she needed them to keep her sane.
But then
as the years passed
and her life became more vivid
vibrant
with the additional person in their tedious house
and everything he did;
the mess he made
his determination
his antics
his stupidity
his pleas
his laughters
his silent sobs
his care
his affections
his gazes
his words
she realised.
When it came from him, those words were not actually meaningless.
Everything is going to be fine
She was a little girl no more. Her age was off the clock already.
Fifteen.
Not that mature.
But old enough for her to understood
the heated arguments inside her father's study room.
She was a kid again
staying inside her crib.
Curling.
Hiding.
Rushing outside as she heard something was thrown
and the front door flew open.
She understood.
As she watched him
coat on
cases in hands
back facing her.
She understood.
That was why she had to resist every urges
to grab him by his shoulder
to ask him to stay
to plead
to show her tears just to convince him
that she really meant them.
So instead
for the first time in forever,
she just called out his first name.
Hoping he would change his mind
or at the very least, turned to face her. Letting her eyes to talk to him.
But he didn't.
So as he walked away in silence, she understood.
She'd spent years telling herself those words.
Again and again
and again.
She could do it then.
And she could do it now.
So she did as such.
Everything is going to be fine
eventhough
he was gone
he left.
Wrote this one on impulse. Yes, Ri could be an expressionless, sassy badass woman who could disarm a gang of bandits in no time. But being an estranged daughter of a nearly-mad man, I couldn't help but to imagine her as a timid, mature, yet fragile girl during her childhood. I like writing young royai, and if anybody have different ideas, you could tell me anytime. Thanks for reading! ;w;