Chapter 24: Cause Of Me
November 2nd, All Souls' Day. Many stands and booths set up both inside and outside the cemetery. Well atleast, that's what the Boiling Isles does. Willow never really understood why that is. You'd think it would be more about honoring the ones who are no longer with us than eating.
Her fathers aren't particularly familiar with the Holiday and so she was never introduced. That was until Boscha asked her to tag along.
The loud bustling noise of people as they chatter fills Willow's ears, but they only register as background noise. She was frankly too sleepy to use 100% of her brain, and too exhausted after running around in circles for about half an hour. Luckily Boscha's bright magenta hair stuck out to her in the lit streets.
She approaches her, and immediately appreciates Boscha's casual clothing. She's just wearing a shirt, a jacket, and ripped jeans, but it's rare they see each other outside of school reasons, so Willow is just taking in the sight. She's holding a few candles, so that implies they're actually going to be doing something. But why is she in ripped jeans in the middle of the night?
Is that part of the Holiday? Was Willow not supposed to wear a blue sweater and leggings with a silly leaf pattern?
"Boschaaa," She groans as she approaches her with white roses in her hands. And a single yellow rose.
"Willow! You're late." Boscha greets. Willow hands her the single rose.
"For you… As friends."
They both cringe slightly.
Willow can't tell if she's been handling the… half-rejection well? Boscha said she wasn't ready, and listed so many reasons as to why. Of course, Willow understands (and quite frankly she has the patience to wait). A lot of stuff has happened and she doesn't think she would be able to process that many things at once either. If anything, she's glad that they're not rushing into things too fast, considering how rocky the start of everything is.
That doesn't change the fact it still hurts slightly to have your feelings both acknowledged and reciprocated, but she appreciates Boscha's honesty.
Boscha takes her hand, and Willow inhales just a bit too loudly. It's clear to Boscha that crushes must not be a common occurrence for Willow; either that or she just gets really dorky at night. Which Boscha internally scolds herself for internally laughing at.
She strolls through the cemetery with a sleepy Willow in hand, the scenery looks just like last year. Stands with little glowing toys, the very annoying cackling dolls that the kids love to set off every 3 seconds, and street food that Boscha only 'ironically' buys when she's 'desperate'.
Cold air passes them as they stroll, and the gentle lull of the trees made Willow's eyelids grow just a bit heavier than they already were. In the process of wandering they've linked arms instead, as they both needed their hands to hold stuff.
"So are we visiting anyone? Or just strolling around?" Willow asks in an attempt to stay awake.
Boscha doesn't respond. It seems her head is still busy processing that she was just asked a question. Instead she approaches one of the stands with Willow still hooked on her arm. She buys two glow sticks, and snaps them on. The light blue highlight her face, and she hands one of them to Willow.
"Yeah, we're visiting." She says.
"Oh… Did you know them?" Willow says as she shuffles to grasp the glow stick with her already full hands.
Boscha looks at Willow blankly. "She's nice. But you don't have to worry about that for now. We can just chill out."
Willow is baffled at how casual this is all being. Where's the ritual she has to be performing with great accuracy right now?
Boscha leads her to some street food ran by a robed skeleton. He fries…stuff right in front of their faces, stuffed into tiny plastic cups and covered in a thick red translucent sauce. Willow isn't sure if they look appetizing, but who is she to judge?
"What do you want?" Boscha asks.
"Uhm… I didn't bring a lot of snails," Willow says, a bit guilty.
Boscha rubs Willow's back and dear titan she's so… Warm. "I'll pay. What do you want?"
"…I don't know any of these."
"Want me to pick for you?"
Willow nods bashfully, "Mhm."
Boscha asks for something, but at the rate she spoke Willow couldn't quite catch what it was. Something that started with a k?
"By the way do you like spicy food or sauces?"
"No spice. Sauce is? Okay? I guess?"
"Okay." Boscha turns to the vendor. "Can we have spicy on one of those?"
"Sige." He replies. Willow doesn't understand what he says but she assumes that meant sure.
Willow follows Boscha to a bench. She sets down the flowers and the glow stick and grabs one of the cups. The food was still piping hot from just getting off the stove.
Willow fidgets with the small stick that came with her snack. "So this person, who was she?"
"I don't actually know a lot about her," Boscha says before poking a kikiam and biting down. She speaks through a mouthful, "I only know stuff my mom tells me."
Willow copies what Boscha does, and despite the fact she burnt the roof of her tongue, the chewy little snack was pretty good. But maybe that was just mostly the sauce.
"How often does she talk about her?"
"Ehm. A lot." Boscha replies.
"Was she nice?" What kind of question is that, Willow. Why would anyone say anything bad about a person who's dead?
"Yeah. She was. My mom said she was the nicest. Always brightened everyone's day when she came into the room. Her personality was just that powerful. My mom's especially." Boscha laughs. "Er uh.. That's what she told me."
"Awe." Willow smiles. "They must've known each other really well."
"Yeah… She was in Oracle—" Boscha downs the last kikiam before chucking the cup into the nearby trash bin. "Very logical person. She planned out every step of her life apparently, which is crazy, because everyone in Oracle knows you can't just plan the future..."
Boscha quiets down, and that confuses Willow. She observes Boscha's behavior; suddenly, she's holding her arms very close to her chest. Though her right elbow was still healing from Grom.
"Are you cold?"
"Sorta." Boscha waves Willow off and says, "It's fine I can handle it though—"
Willow takes off her sweater to reveal the long sleeved shirt beneath and places it over Boscha's shoulders. Now she has three layers of clothes. "Anyways—You were saying?"
Boscha's shoulders tense up. "Ahah… Right…"
She continues to babble on about this person, and the impression Willow gets is that Boscha's mother, Amyl, really cared for her. They've went through so much in both their childhood and adulthood, and despite having only known her for 15 years she still cherished her very much. She had dreams, ambitions…
"Do you know how she died?" Willow asks as she gently places her cup in the bin.
"Welp," Boscha's voice cracks. "She's always has been a bit reckless"
That wasn't a very direct answer.
"A-Anyways…" Boscha stutters. She sighs a shaky sigh, that felt like it's been stuck there since she started talking. "Uhm, thanks for coming with me here. I don't think I could've handled coming alone…"
"Hm," Willow hums. "Why is that?"
She stands up and beckons Willow to come follow her. They walk along a straight path, and the night felt so much quieter. There was only one street lamp, and it flickered in and out just enough to convince you that it's not dead yet. The crickets follow too, as only they could be heard as they approached an old tree.
Willow admires it's height for just a few seconds, before she notices that Boscha had already jumped down a small ledge and into the grass encasing more gravestones.
Willow carefully climbs down, she pardons and apologizes on the graves she may have stepped on before finally reaching Boscha. Who had already sat down next to one gravestone.
'Simone Ferburn'
Those first two words already send Willow into a brief moment of grief, as she realizes that Boscha had been discussing her other parent…
'1979-2007'
Wait. That's when Boscha was…
The grass crunches as Willow sits next to Boscha, and she lays down the bouquet right next to the gravestone.
She lays her head on Boscha's shoulder.
"Hey Willow…" Boscha says, her voice in a low and hushed whisper. "Do you think my mom hates me?"
Willow rubs circles into Boscha's back. "Why would she?"
"Because… I ruined what could've been a perfect marriage." Boscha sighs. She leans her own head on Willow's and basks in a warmth that had comforted her so many times before. "She talks about her so frequently, and I feel like she was the only thing that really made her happy."
Willow remains silent, but she nods. She looks at Boscha; who had such a blank expression it felt like she was either hiding her emotions, or has just thought about this for such a long time that it became second nature to her.
"I just don't know why…" She sighs. "Sorry for just dumping that on you."
"No no, I asked for it. It's okay." Willow replies, and her words send a wave of relief over Boscha. "You know… I don't think she hates you."
Boscha's ear perks up.
"If she was in Oracle then… Then that must mean she saw every possibility. Every single one, and no matter how many possibilities there were, she decided that you were worth more than every single one."
Willow nuzzles into the crook of Boscha's neck. She pats Boscha's head lightly in an attempt to lighten up the tension at that moment, and what Boscha felt was the wisdom and protection of someone that really cared for her.
"If she's anything like you now, then she would've seen the woman you'd grow up to be, and I bet she was already so proud of you before you were even conceived. She loved you so much, and I'm sure she cherished every moment she could get to hold you."
A small sniffle comes out. "You know…" Boscha chokes. "I think she would've loved you too."
Later that evening, before going home, it was Boscha's family tradition to eat out before going home. So of course, she introduces Willow to it as Boscha escorts her home. They find a little noodle shack just outside of Willow's neighborhood, which Willow was already familiar with.
"Let's go eat first before going home," Boscha says. She grabs Willow's arm and bounces on the balls of her feet like a needy puppy.
"Ahh. But my dads are already wondering why I'm so late—"
"I'm sure they won't be mad if you told them you just ate dinner! Now come on pleaase," Boscha pleads.
"Okay okay fiine," Willow whines.
Boscha drags Willow to one of the stools. The fresh aroma of ramen fills Willow's appetite, and as they eat Willow can't help but feel a little shy for spending such a long night together with Boscha.
"I hope this makes up for me venting earlier," Boscha laughs. After everything that happened, it really doesn't seem like Willow's leaving her. No matter how many things she throws in her direction. If anything, Boscha feels a little guilty.
"MhKmk—" Willow nearly chokes. "Boscha. This was your holiday. You can do whatever you want, I don't mind."
"Heh… Yeah…" Boscha trails off. "But still… How about we make things even then?"
Willow quirks her eyebrow. "How so?"
"Do you…" Boscha hesitates. Oh Titan. What are her intentions? After so much stuff one right after the other, she just wants to enjoy her time with Willow. "Maybe want to go to the fair with me next week?"
Did she ask what I think she just asked?
Willow's face flashes a bright red. "Specify please."
"Everything's been so stressful. So just you and me. No weird stuff, no bad feelings." Boscha twirls the last remaining noodles on her fork. "Just fun?"
Willow gulps down some water.
AaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAa
"SureIDon'tSeeWhyNot" Willow says in a slurry of words before she shoves a spoonful of noodles in her mouth to save herself from spouting out any more nonsense. "But wait. Is it a date? LIke a date. You promised you'd be more forward, Boscha tell mee."
Boscha chuckles. She places her chin on her hand and leans towards Willow. "Eheheh, you're so silly when you're sleepy… But yeah I meant it like that. Just felt like teasing you."
"Ahahahahaha," Willow laughs a long-winded laugh. "This is bullying. No. Murder. You're killing me right now. What's next? You're not gonna show up? Is that part of your master plan to ultra-bully kill me too."
"Ultra wh—Sheesh! You're so negative when it's night."
"And you get a lot more cocky."
Boscha unties Willow's jacket from her shoulders. Boscha holds it in her hands, and ponders… Then takes off her own jacket.
That wasn't exactly what Willow was expecting when she called her cocky. Not that she… Minds… Looking at her arms…
Boscha drapes her jacket over Willow's face. "There. Now you know I won't stand you up."
Beneath the sweaty piece of fabric Willow's face is smothered in heat from the amount of blood rushing to her face. "…Oke ay"
This day turned out to be a lot less scary than Willow thought.