Author's note: this was written for the Dark&Cozy event at ficwip on Tumblr. The story needs to put a dark twist on a cozy trope, and the trope I chose is "domesticity".
NOCTURNE
It's pretty warm for an early May morning, and Rinoa is enjoying the pleasant breeze blowing through the open kitchen window. The smell of her favorite coffee brewing mixes with the delicious fragrance of butter melting, and she hums Squall's latest favorite song – the one that always gets fixed in her head, because he listens to it on a loop – as she mixes the pancake batter one last time before cooking the first one.
They could go to the beach, later. Their home in Balamb has a nice inlet accessible through their backdoor, nestled in between cliffs, and she is sure Kiran will love his first experience on the sand. They could call their friends, maybe have a cozy little party, enjoying the warm sun together. She could even dare to wear the black bikini that Squall loves so much, if the weather keeps staying warm enough.
In the living room, her son's infective laugh explodes, immediately followed by Squall's amused one, and she giggles to herself, even without knowing what they are laughing about. Her husband is probably tickling the baby, or maybe Angelo is being silly just to make him laugh. She likes it when Sunday mornings are like this; laughter, love, nice weather, and plans with friends.
Angelo's nose nudges her leg, and Rinoa flips the pancake before bending down to scratch her dog behind her ears. Then, her son's happy babbling fills the room, and she watches as her husband sits him down on his high chair, his inseparable stuffed chocobo securely nestled in his little arms. Squall hugs her, his hands possessively squeezing her hips, his smile a warm remnant of the night they spent together.
"Morning," he says, his voice nicely scruffy. "I see you've already started breakfast," he comments, as he rubs his cheek against hers.
"Morning," she answers. "Wanna help?"
He nods, kissing her cheek so loudly that Kiran bursts out laughing again, and Rinoa smiles. Sometimes, being happy is just so easy – all it takes is her husband's affection, her son's happiness, her dog's antics, her friends' willingness to spend time together.
"We could go to the beach, later," she comments, as Squall finishes feeding Angelo and washes his hands to squeeze some oranges. She starts with the second pancake, watching him through his bangs. He looks so concentrated on those oranges, it's kind of cute. It's the same expression Kiran has when he tries to understand how a new toy works.
"Well?" she says, nudging him as she flips her pancake.
He briefly looks at her, with a lopsided smile. "Will you wear your black bikini?"
Rinoa laughs, and Kiran laughs too, and she just wants to keep her two favorite persons in the world as happy as they are now.
"If you ask nicely," she answers, and he ruffles her hair, reaching around her, without really needing to, to start working on Kiran's baby bottle.
Sometimes it's even too easy being happy, she thinks as she calls her friends for their day at the beach, meeting warm acceptance from Quistis, a loud hell yeah! from Zell, and Selphie…
"Rinoa?" asks Selphie's voice, and it sounds distant, like there's some interference in her phone.
"I'm gonna call you back," she mumbles, but suddenly she can't find her phone. It was right in her hands, she is sure, she just called Quistis and Zell, for Hyne's sake. She turns to tell Squall and laugh with him about it, but the kitchen is suddenly empty. She looks around, trying to call for her husband –
– "Rinoa?" says Selphie's voice, once again. This is getting so weird.
Somewhere on the beach, Squall is probably listening to the radio, because she can hear it. A man's grave voice is reading the news, something about someone being found on the beach, and –
– "Rinoa, dear," says once again Selphie's voice. She feels one hand on her shoulder, a warm hand that sends a cold shiver down her spine anyway. This is not right. Is she going crazy with power? Why is she hearing voices and feeling hands, all of a sudden? Why when she is so happy? Kiran, she has to save Kiran. She has to tell Squall. She has to –
The hand on her shoulder squeezes harder, the voice saying her name is louder, and it's not only Selphie's anymore, it's… Quistis' too?
Then something moves, inside of her. A pain, radiating from her very core, shifts, and it becomes front and center; and she's not in her kitchen flipping pancakes anymore; she is in her marital bed, her face pressed against her husband's pillow, his scent filling her nostrils.
Her pain understands before she does; her hand closes around a stuffed chocobo, and a lump of tears closes her throat.
Kiran.
Disappeared.
Kidnapped.
"Rinoa?" says Selphie's voice, once again. The mattress shifts under her friend's weight, and she hears the click of heels on the floor. She opens her eyes, and Quistis is looking at her from the threshold, while Selphie gently caresses her hair.
Reality settles and crashes down on her. She feels her eyes puffy and burning; her throat itches with unshed tears and scorched screams; and a small ball of throbbing pain rolls behind her eyes, stealing her ability to see for a split second.
How cruel of her mind, to let her see her son again, happy and laughing. But then she bursts once again in racking sobs: not even in her dream she was able to hold her son once last time.
Another part of her dream creeps into reality, and the grave voice of a man resonates from her living room.
…We regret to inform you that a body has been found on Balamb's beach. At this time, the identity of the child has not yet been…
She sits up abruptly, the voice coming from the radio swallowed by the sudden rush of blood in her ears, and she ignores the ball of pain exploding once again behind her eyes.
– a body –
– a child –
– on Balamb's beach –
– her husband's absence –
– her friends trying to wake her up –
She erupts into a feral scream, and she stands up, fighting against her throbbing head, Selphie who tries to calm her down, Quistis who tries to stop her from exiting the room. But hell hath no pain like a childless mother; and the pain is fueling her now; so when she demands, "What's happening and where is Squall?", Selphie can only sigh.
"At the beach," answers Quistis in a grave whisper.
"Take me there," she says, and it's not a request; it's a demand, raw and precise, a bleeding wound waiting to fester.
The journey to the beach seems both eternal and instantaneous, and Rinoa starts crying again, giving another guttural scream of unbearable pain when, between police vehicles, SeeD's cars, the ambulance, and the forensic van, she catches glimpses of a small body covered with a white sheet.
She bolts out of the car before Selphie has even stopped, and she runs toward the beach. A man turns toward her; she recognizes Zell; and then Squall steps away from a group of SeeDs and she will be damned if he manages to stop her.
His strides are more powerful, though, and she is still fighting against her aching head, so he catches her after a few meters, stopping her from reaching the beach.
"Let me go, I need to see him –" she starts, but he interrupts her with a gentle embrace. He is stiff, though; his movements lack the usual fluidity, the usual warmth. In the deepest recess of her mind, she wonders whether he's blaming her for their child's loss, and she doesn't listen to the brush of his love, dismissing such a stupid thought. She feels guilty, and that's enough, and she tries to disentangle from his gentle yet firm embrace.
"I said, let me go!"
"You don't need to see, Nini," he says, and his voice sounds raw and scorched with pain, too. "He's not him. He's not our Kiran," he whispers, and the way his voice breaks breaks her heart, too.
She falls on her knees, crying, and he follows, sitting down on the grass and pulling her to his chest. His hand feels big on her head, as he cradles it in a desperate attempt to soothe her pain. But she feels something is gnawing at him, too, something he is ignoring for her sake: the sense of unfathomable failure, the shame of not being able to protect them as he promised to, after all, the inability to make this pain go away. She raises her hand, threading it into his hair, knowing how comforted he feels when she does that. But there is an enormous hole in their world, a Kiran-shaped hole that can't be filled, and this pain is uniting them as much as it divides them, with their failures, their shames, their guilts.
"I just want my baby back," she wails, crumbling under the pressure of this feeling she has never felt before. No desperation she has ever felt in her life compares to the desperation brought on by the idea of never seeing the sweet smile of her child ever again, or the idea that the laughter in her dreams will be the only sound her child will ever make in front of her again. Her cruel mind not allowing her to hold her son again, not even in her perfectly happy, cozy, domestic dreams tears her definitely apart, and she feels like this fracture will define her forever.
"I promise I will find him," states Squall, but not even the firmness in his voice can hide the crack she feels behind it. "I promise I'll bring our boy back home, to you."
She wants to believe him, but amidst the raw pain lacerating his soul, she feels his doubts, the way he's wondering what if.
The what-if makes the Kiran-shaped hole in her world even larger, and it's just a second of heartwrenching doubt; perhaps, this will be the only promise that Squall Leonhart won't be able to keep.
He tilts her head to look into her eyes, and she sees, in his, his pain-fueled determination. Behind him, the ambulance's siren is still flashing red, even though there is nothing more they can do; and the waves crash hard onto the beach, as if they are angered with the world too; and another car stops behind them, its brakes screeching, and another woman wails for her child, and Rinoa closes her eyes, feeling once again guilt and shame because she has been spared that kind of pain, for the moment, but that woman has lost all her hope. She sobs again, in sympathy, and Squall cradles her head, pressing it against the velvet part of his uniform.
His promise still resonates in her mind, around the ball of pain still rolling behind her eyes.
But she can't help but wonder what if.
Author's note: as usual, feel free to correct mistakes! Grammarly has been fairly useless lately so I'd like to know if my English is still adequate.