They stood, shivering in the cold, but feeling as warm as ever. Hand in hand, they waited by the street for a certain traffic-light to flash green.
He was wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt with a claw-scratch printed from left shoulder to right waist. A pair of tattered jeans was donned, held up by a long, ebony chain instead of a belt that was looped on his right due to the length of it. His hair was disheveled, with a cowlick that refused to rest.
She was wearing a purple t-shirt with her favourite red cardigan over it. Her slacks were soaked near the ankles due to the snow. She shivered, unconsciously shaking her brown hair that stopped by her shoulders. She looked down at her younger brother, he flashed her his trademark smile. He was goofy, yes, but he was small.
And most importantly, he was happy.
She held his hand tighter in her grip. He trembled, but she was not sure if it was because of the cold, or of the mere excitement of what lay ahead of them.
Despite the state of penury they were in, irreplaceable smiles hung on their faces, so radiant they melted the snow around them. A green light flashed on the traffic light, signifying for the pedestrians to cross the street. Step after step, they dug their heels in the frozen snow and made their way across the street.
Bianca's seven year old little brother had one hand in hers and another in his pocket. The allowance he was given wasn't a lot, about the price of a packet of chewing gum every week, give or take a few cents. He dug his hand deeper into his pocket, and clutched two pieces of paper, careful not to crumple it. After a year of saving up his pocket money, he paid for two cinema tickets.
One for his sister, and one for him. The film they were going to watch was the cheapest one, and obviously it wouldn't be as good.
But most importantly, she was happy.
He gripped the tickets firmly, as if it could fly away anytime like Icarus, and eventually disappear in his sight, forever.
When they finally made themselves comfortable in the cinema seats, they raised their head up towards the big screen. Munching sounds filled the air, but the siblings didn't have enough for any popcorn. They simply took the chance to enjoy to film.
Sometimes they would laugh, sometimes they would flinch, but all the time, they had their hands touching. She with her iron grip and him with his twitching fingers.
Bianca and Nico had each other, and they were happy.
"Hey kid! You smell like a dead rat!"
Again, Nico had his face shoved into a wall. He watched the bullies run away and making disgusting noises- farting, burping, whatever. This utterly disgusted him. With a flick of the wrist, he wiped away the blood that was dripping from his nose.
Eight year old Nico leaned back on the wall and slid down into a crouching position.
Eight year old Nico didn't attempt to wipe the blood from his nose anymore.
Eight year old Nico, started to weep.
A ten year old Bianca was wearing the same school uniform as Nico, she put her books back in her locker. She tossed her brown hair behind her back, straightened her shirt and flung her school bag on her shoulder.
She went to look for Nico.
The teary eyed Nico heard footsteps around the corner. He was by the emergency backdoor of the school. He lifted his head and wiped away his tears when he felt Bianca's presence.
"Nico?" Her voice echoed in his mind.
He stood up, and put a brave face. His nose had stopped bleeding, but his shoulder and collar bones were drenched in red. She found him, but he was hurt.
But most importantly, he was happy.
"Nico! What happened? Did they-"
"Beat me up again? What do you think?" He finished and ducked his head shamefully.
Bianca shook her head. "Are you alright?"
She looked at his bloodied shirt with narrowed eyes.
"I want to go home~" He whined.
She smiled, and held out her hand. He took it and together they walked back home.
Their house wasn't much, but it was comfortable and made the children feel safe.
"Mother's not home again," she said as she sat Nico down by the table. "She's coming back late again."
A big sigh emitted from Nico's mouth. "I rarely see her," he muttered.
Bianca smiled sympathetically as she reached for a towel and soaked it with cold water. She strode towards Nico and held the towel under his nose. "Hold it there," she said. She patted his head, and disappeared into his room, only to return again with a fresh set of clothes.
He changed, and she waited. She was waiting for a cup of honey milk to warm up, and when he came out, she passed him the mug.
Honey milk, it was his favourite. He showed her his ear to ear grin, and began sipping the hot milk.
Bianca watched him. She held her tranquil gaze, even when Nico finished and let out a long "ahhh..."
She giggled, and shook her head. Then took the mug, and went to wash it.
Only then did Nico realised how much of a motherly figure Bianca was to him. He walked towards her, and offered to wash the mug instead. She frowned, afraid that he would break it. But Nico had insisted, so in the end, Nico was in front of the sink, washing the cup under a running tap.
She frowned and scrutinized his every move.
But at least, she was happy.
The brother and sister, and maybe a small trace of mother and son, were happy. They were together.
A sharp buzzing filled Nico's ear. He felt a sharp stab at his chest, and his brain told him that someone dear to him had left.
Bianca didn't look much better, for she was trembling and pale.
"Bianca, where's Mother?" Nico asked in a hushed voice.
"Hush, Nico. Don't be afraid." Bianca replied in the same tone. "I've got you now, and I'm sure that where ever she is, she is safe."
"And happy?" He piped in.
"And happy. Just like us." Bianca opened her arms to her brother, and he welcomed the embrace.
Together, they let their warmth melt away their fear.
Together, they let their love heal each others heart.
Together, they felt better.
As long as they were together, they would be happy.
They were pushed into a river. Nico's jet black hair was flying behind him, he was soaked, drenched in water. His blue shirt was now a very dark shade of purple, due to the moisture. Beside him, he felt bubbles and turned to see that his sister, Bianca. Her hair was a tangled disarray as she plunged deeper into the water with him.
"Help! Bianca! I'm drowning!" He tried to say, but nothing came out.
She flailed her arms wildly, as if trying to catch something she couldn't.
Then, their minds blanked out.
They remember nothing.
He fell quiet as he floated back to the surface of the river. His eyes were closed but his mind fought to catch all the information that slipped his grasp. He doesn't remember anything. Who was he? Where was he?
Then his mouth opened as he uttered a word softly. "Bianca..."
Bianca, was that his name? No it can't be. He was a boy, and though he lost his memory, he was not stupid.
Was Bianca his pet? No, his mother perhaps? Maybe. How about his sister? Yes, we're getting there.
Whatever she was, she was his best friend, and no oblivion how strong, could wipe that name off his memory.
He allowed a small smile to crawl to his lips. He whispered that name again. "Bianca."
She on the other hand, was in a fetal position. Her mind was whirling you could literally see the gears clanking in place.
"Nico..." She felt confused. That name. It comforted her.
Who was he?
Was Nico her teddy bear? No, her playmate perhaps? Maybe. How about his brother? Yes, we're getting there.
Whatever he was, he was her best friend, and no force, no matter how strong it is, could wipe that name off her memory.
She repeated that name, and she finally felt like she could breath again. Unconsciously, she smiled.
"Why, Bianca?" He sobbed his heart out.
He runs because he knows that he misses her.
He runs because he knows that if he runs far enough, he will find her.
He runs because he knows that if love could do anything, it would bring her to him.
But he trips, because he knows that he would never find her.
He would never feel her warm touch when she holds her hand.
He would never taste that honey milk that she makes for him.
He would never see her radiant smile that could light up the whole world.
He would never hear her voice, telling him to come closer.
And he would never smell her fragrance, the flowers she pick, the... the...
No, he will never ever. Not again will he ever.
"Why, Bianca?" He sobs on the ground.
"Why did you have to leave me for the Hunters? For Artemis? Why did you have to die for Percy? For Percy Jackson?"
No one replies. He cocks his head to one side, as if awaiting her answer.
"What about me? What about me?" He is desperate now. He shouts in the air, his voice clearly showing fury.
"What am I to you! I thought! I thought I was your everything! You clearly were mine!"
He throws his hands in the air. His eyes were red from crying.
She was his dear sister, his beautiful mother, and his best friend.
But now she was gone. And she was his everything.
"Now that you're gone, what am I?!"
Cry me a river. Cry me a river.
He shook his head at this thought. He was always strong, he was always strong because Bianca was there. She was his strength. Her departure left him weak.
"Now what do I do? Bianca?" He shouts at the trees. "BIANCA! ANSWER ME!"
In his hand, he is clutching the Hades figurine in his hand.
The figurine she had died for.
Bianca, I want a cupcake!
Bianca, I want to sleep!
Bianca, I want you to play mythomagic with me!
Bianca, I want the Hades figurine!
Now she had done it.
She really went and got the figurine.
He blames his foolishness.
He blames that stupid mythomagic game.
He blames the Hunters and Artemis.
He blames Percy Jackson.
And he blames himself.
"Just a week ago!" He shouts through his hiccuping sobs. "Just a week ago. We... We were fine! And it was just you. You and me! And we were happy!"
He breaks down completely.
"I want to join you, Bianca!"
He imagines her shaking her head furiously. 'No Nico, you have to stay! You must be strong! I want you to stay happy!'
But she was his strength.
She was his strength, his sister, his mother and his best friend.
And now, she had left him.
She had left him and he was alone.
He had never imagined...
But now she was gone.
"No, Bianca. Now that you're gone, how can I be strong?" He weeps, tears falling uncontrollably.
He gasps a few times, trying to breath through his tears. But that only left him light headed. He falls to the ground and curls up like a cat. And then he whispers, to no one now, for he had gone with her.
"How can I be happy?"