THIRTY
"Don't worry about it," Maria reassures Elfnein as she dabs away stray tears with her handkerchief. "It's natural. It happens to all of us, sooner or later." Her throat bobs and her lips purse; she knows what Maria's thinking.
It should have been later, not sooner.
"As she said. There is no shame in grief," she adds. Elfnein twists around to look up at her with serious eyes.
She tries not to tremble, because she is holding Elfnein and it would be extremely bad if she were to drop the child.
They have spent a good thirty minutes crying—all of them. Maria's eyes are bloodshot, and Elfnein's face is still red. She supposes her own eyes are bloodshot, as well.
"Does… does it get better?"
It is asked in such a small voice.
She cannot give an absolute answer, for there is none. "Sometimes. Sometimes it strikes you out of the blue. Sometimes it lingers, a melancholic fog around you. Sometimes it is a cool breeze on a spring day." She is speaking obliquely, she knows, but Elfnein nods along. "Sometimes it is the distant memory of winter in the height of summer—and everything in between."
Elfnein curls into her, hands grasping her sweater in tight fists.
The weight of another person in her arms is unfamiliar. She has never been around children; her arms have known only Kanade and Maria, her father and uncle, and Hibiki.
None of them could have prepared her for this: Elfnein is so slight, so fragile.
"There, there," she murmurs.
"'m not cryin'," Elfnein tells her, voice muffled. "'m jus'… just resting a little bit."
a/n: Bonus chapter.
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