Chapter 22: Don't Expect Much

It's after school, the sun was 2 hours away from setting. The two have are just in the field in casual clothing. Boscha with her dark red shirt tucked into ripped jeans, and Willow's yellow dress with blue pendant.

Boscha had been practicing her techniques of how exactly she's going to punch Grom in the face for an hour now, and Willow's been watching in awe and concern the whole time. She sat on a bench next to Boscha's backpack, which she's been eyeing. Mainly the stickers and pins. Boscha swears the Ruler's Reach merch is just borrowed.

While Willow laughed at that remark, it highlighted her concerns.

"Okay. I think that's enough, time for a break," Boscha sits down beside Willow and takes a large swig of water from her green container.

"Mhm. I don't think I can stomach you burning any more trees down," Willow says.

"They're just plants!"

"Still living things!" Willow groans. She huffs and stretches her aching back before settling her head down on the palm of her hand. Willow sighs.

"Do you think you're ready for tomorrow?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay but are you prepared prepared," She says. "You know you're going to be facing your deepest fears."

"Yeah and I'll beat them no problem."

As Boscha says that, Willow internally facepalms. This is how she talks about her fears? Either she's so naively sure that she can handle it, or she doesn't know what she's getting into.

Willow pinches Boscha's ear. She grabs the towel around Boscha's neck and wipes the sweat off her nose like a frustrated mother. "You're too calm about this!"

Boscha laughs. "What's the problem? Scared for me?"

"I—" Willow softens. She sinks down and clutches Boscha's towel.

She worries so much about her friends… But her feelings make the problem 10x worse.

"Maybe," She says with a light blush.

They sit there for just a few passing moments as Boscha processes what she just heard. On her face, it turns from frustration before returning to calm. It doesn't register in her mind that Willow is concerned, not condescending. She smiles, and changes topic to something that could be more about how she's not inferior, lest she risk bruising her ego with Willow's words.

"What's your biggest fear?"

"Excuse me?" Willow says. "Shouldn't I be the one asking that?"

"Sure, but I asked you first." She states with such confidence and logic that Willow feels obligated to reply.

"Oh uhm… I guess it's…"

Inside of her, her mind paces. She's been wanting to really discuss things with her friends for a while now. But unfortunately, at every opportunity, she second guesses what their reactions would be. As much as she'd love to forgive and forget, forgiving and forgetting is hard when you have no real closure.

No wait. I can't say that. I don't want to hurt her feelings.

Boscha quirks her head.

I don't want to stir the pot. Not after everything's already good now.

"Uhm. Lady bugs?" Willow lies.

"PFFT! That's it?" Boscha chuckles. "I can squash so many!"

"WHAT. No! I don't wanna kill them!" Willow scolds in a panic. "Just because they're scary doesn't mean I want to wish them any harm! I just… Wouldn't want to see them. That's all."

Boscha looks at her curiously.

"What good will that bring you?" Boscha says.

"UHM. A-anyways!" Willow quickly changes topic before she flubs up her silly lie. (Not that she isn't afraid of lady bugs…) "What about you?"

Boscha hums. What would be a fear that would make her seem cool?

"Death."

"Death."

"Yep."

"You're going to be facing death tomorrow."

"Mhm."

"Not scared?"

"Nope."

"Somehow… Now tell me if I'm insane… I don't believe you." Willow jokes.

"Ok then. Tell me. What do you think I'm scared of?" Boscha asks. Willow takes a few seconds to really ponder based on her perception of Boscha.

"Confrontation." She says.

"Ah huh!" Boscha hums. "What makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch." Willow replies.

"Well…" Boscha chuckles and rubs her wrist. "No." She says, a bit fiercer than usual.

Willow laughs as Boscha stands up, but that's more to scare off her own uneasiness.

Boscha continues practicing. She mastered her own technique of scrunching up paper balls with fire glyphs. Now normally, paper balls barely bap anyone. But combined with Boscha's strength… Well let's just say you wouldn't want to have a large burning hole in your chest for sure.

She says it's practice. But really, she's just blowing off steam and frustration.

It's been hell trying hard not to blow up. To shove down any feeling of insignificance and worthlessness. Deep down she's been following Willow because part of her felt like Willow would be the only one equal to her. Or maybe she just feels like she'll somehow absorb part of Willow's magic. She's not sure. But that's only because she's been ignoring how truly powerful she is. She loves to act like Willow's all soft and delicate, but she knows that if Willow never held herself back…

She doesn't see her as a person… Or at least, not fully. But that's how she treats everyone really.

"Boscha?"

Boscha jolts. "Huh?!"

"Uhm… You seemed distracted."

"Oh." She yeets another ball at the nearest tree. "I was just thinking."

Part of her really wants to confront these thoughts… But her instinct tells her it's not worth it. Dangerous even. If she even thought of Willow as her friend, she would care for her for her and not for her own gain. It could very well be used against her.

Put up a front. Don't let them know how much it bothers you.

That's how they break you.

Willow yawns. The sky is already getting dark. It's probably time to head home. But she doesn't want to leave Boscha by herself. And—Wait… She looks terrified.

"Boscha."

Her voice hitches. "…Hhh. Yes…"

"You should sit down."

Willow approaches her. She places her hands on Boscha's shoulders and beckons her towards the bench. But Boscha refuses. She shoves Willow's hands off her.

"I don't need empathy." Boscha states, blankly. She places her head in her hands. "I have a headache."

But really it was more like a sudden switch from admiration to frustration. And she doesn't know why it happens. She doesn't know if she hates it. But it causes her more stress than good. But it happens. Her thoughts get fuzzy and muddled, and she starts to hate people and grow distant. It's a defense mechanism, or just habit. Or both.

Willow brings the water bottle in front of Boscha's face. She looks, but shakes her head.

"No I just—" Boscha growls. "Leave me alone! I need to be alone!"

"…"

Willow observes Boscha's behavior as she rubs the bridge of her nose, and she senses just that tiny bit of regret from her outburst. But part of Willow still feels like she did something wrong.

Or that's what she went to bed thinking, as Boscha refused to talk to her.