July 23rd
Agatha's eyes flickered open to find Rio sleeping as usual. A soft smile spread on her face, and then her eyes shifted to the calendar. She had almost forgotten.
Why couldn’t she have just forgotten?
She gripped the blanket before getting up and taking the calendar off the wall. She stared at that day's date:
July 23rd.
Her hands gripped it so hard that the paper wrinkled. She headed downstairs and threw the calendar in the fireplace before lighting it. She crossed her arms, digging her nails into them.
“Was that our calendar?”
Rio's soft voice startled Agatha, making her nails dig deeper in.
“Uh, maybe.” Agatha refused to turn around.
“Why?”
Her voice wasn’t accusatory by any means, but the more Agatha replayed it in her head, the angrier it became.
Agatha stared at the floor. “It's– it's complicated.”
Rio walked over to Agatha, placing her hands on her arms and turning her so they faced each other. “Is everything okay? You've been kind of off the past few days.”
Agatha put on a reassuring smile. “Yeah, don't worry. Everything's fine.”
Rio moved her hands down to Agatha's, taking her hands off her bloody arms. “Are you lying to me?”
Agatha's eyes widened before she looked away, but Rio put her fingers under Agatha's chin, turning her head back.
“I’m not mad, I just–”
“I don't wanna talk about it.”
The words were barely audible, but they were almost as stern as when they first met. Rio summoned a piece of cotton, cleaning the blood off of the nail marks.
“I think it's important for you to talk about it, but I'm not gonna push.” She met Agatha's ocean-blue eyes as she continued to speak in a soft tone. “I trust you'll come to me whenever you're ready.” A soft smile made its way onto Agatha's face as Rio grabbed her hands, squeezing them. “I'm here for you.”
“I know.” Agatha pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you.”
“Always.” Rio hugged her back. She had a feeling she needed it.
Agatha nuzzled into her, the memories haunting her. She tried to stop herself, but a singular tear made its way down her face. A knot formed in her throat as she tried to hold herself back. She couldn't cry. She had to stay silent, she couldn't be a burden, especially not for something that had happened so long ago.
Rio held her tight. “It’s okay, don’t hold it.“
“B– but I can’t–”
“Yes, you can. You're okay. Let yourself go. It's just you and me.”
With those words, Agatha let herself sob, Rio stroking her hair.
“That’s right. You’re allowed to cry, sweetheart.”
That just made Agatha cry more. Rio didn’t know how long she held her for, but she didn’t let go until Agatha did. When they pulled apart, she wiped Agatha’s tears away.
“Maybe we could have breakfast—“
“I’m not hungry.”
“That’s okay. We could just sit here, on the couch.”
“Okay.”
With that, they sat down, and Agatha pulled her knees into her chest, thinking over what that day meant to her. She had sworn she’d never talk about it with anyone ever again, but Rio was… different. She knew more, she cared more.
She was the only person Agatha had ever truly, whole-heartedly trusted.
Part of the truth wouldn’t hurt.
She gulped.
“My back.”
Rio paused in confusion, looking over to Agatha.
“The scars on my back. I never told you how I got them.”
“Uh, not directly, no. I just assumed it was your mother.”
Agatha took a deep shaky breath as she nodded slowly. “…Today is my birthday.”
Rio’s eyes widened before she sighed. “I have a feeling this isn’t a ‘Happy Birthday’ moment.”
Agatha shook her head no. “Birthdays don’t mean the same thing to me as they do to others.”
“How so?”
Agatha stayed silent for a bit, and Rio let her think about how to put it.
“For others, a birthday is a celebration of surviving another year.” Agatha dug her nails into her arms as her voice broke.
The words ended up leaving Agatha’s lips in a whisper.
“Mine was the perfect opportunity to remind me that I was lucky to be born.”
Rio’s face filled with horror as she realized. She gulped as she reached for Agatha’s arms, pulling her hands away. “So the scars—“
“Were from my mom. Yeah.”
They sat there in silence, her hands tightly gripping Agatha’s. Rio knew how much Agatha hated being told “I’m sorry for you”, but no words appeared before her.
“You don’t talk about her much.”
The words escaped her mouth before she could really think. Agatha looked back, meeting Rio’s eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, yeah, you talk about the things she did, but you don’t talk about her.”
Agatha readjusted herself. “I— There’s not much to say. She… She was the head witch. She hated art, thought I should’ve grown up to be some sort of mini-me… I can’t think of anything she liked, let alone loved.” She leaned back, burying her face in her hands.
Agatha sighed.
Rio had helped her so much, had supported her through everything, never once told her that she was the problem. Agatha owed Rio the truth.
The whole truth.
“...Today is also something else.” She barely managed a whisper.
Rio raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I…” Agatha cleared her throat, though her voice still broke when she spoke. “I was 6. My mom told me to– to get something from the… the basement, and…” Agatha leaned back, crossing her arms and digging her nails into them. Rio put her hand on her shoulder. “I thought my dad had gone out, but…”
Rio's eyes widened in horror as she realized where the story was going. “Agatha…”
“He– He couldn't take it anymore. He was done protecting me. He– He had hung himself.”
Rio pulled her in for a hug as tears forced themselves down Agatha's face. “Sweetheart, I'm–”
“Don't.” Agatha gulped. “Don't say you're sorry. It was a long time ago.”
Rio sighed silently, pulling Agatha’s hands away from her arms. “But it doesn't feel like it, does it?”
Agatha shook her head. “I still– I still remember s– screaming and– and feeling his c– corpse, and…”
Her words were drowned in sobs as Rio stroked her hair. A knot formed in Rio's throat.
“I'm s– sorry.”
“Hey, hey, you have nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, I– I do. We were– we were supposed to go out–”
“That's not important right now, my love. We can go out another day. I'm the one who should be sorry.”
Agatha tried to quiet herself as she looked into Rio's eyes. “What do you mean?”
“If I hadn't collected him–
“Babe, no. You can't do that to yourself. You were just doing your job. He's the one who… who…”
Rio pulled her back in as Agatha tried to calm herself, but Rio kissed her forehead.
“It’s okay. Don't hold yourself, my love.”
She let Agatha sob into her chest.
“He left me alone. With her.”
“You survived, my love. That's all that matters now.”
“I was 6, Rio. 6.”
“I know. It wasn't fair.”
“It wasn't fair,” Agatha repeated. “It wasn't fair that– that I found him, that– that I had to continue living with my mom, that– that… It wasn't fair.”
Rio gripped Agatha's hair, letting her sob. Agatha held Rio’s hand tightly until she calmed down.
“I’m sorry.”
Rio kissed her forehead. “Don’t be. It’s understandable.”
“I don’t like crying.” Agatha nuzzled into Rio.
“I know. Me neither.” Rio stroked her hair.
“I just don’t understand why I can’t just move on.”
Rio looked over at her. “I think it ties back to what you said about your name.”
Agatha sat up, meeting Rio’s eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You said you kept your mother’s name because part of you just hoped she’d accept you someday and you could be a proper family, even though your father… isn’t here anymore. Even though she treated you horribly, you still want to hang onto her, and sometimes, we don’t want to heal, because the pain is all that’s left of what we’ve lost.”
Agatha paused, considering what Rio had said.
“You hate her, very reasonably, but part of you still loves her. She’s still your mother, even if she was a shitty one.”
“She’s the only person I had.” Agatha swallowed, then met Rio’s eyes. “I have you now.”
Rio interlaced her fingers with Agatha’s. “I’m here for you. Forever.”
Agatha let out a soft chuckle. “I thought forever was the sweetestcon.”
Rio clicked her tongue. “I don’t think that anymore. I mean, energy can neither be created nor destroyed, so…”
“Have you been reading again?”
Rio giggled. “Yeah. It was this science journal. I think you’d like it.”
“Maybe you could read it to me tonight.” Agatha traced over Rio’s collarbone.
“If you’d like.” Rio kissed her forehead before meeting her ocean-blue eyes, still red from the tears she had shed earlier.
“I have an idea.”
—
Agatha raised an eyebrow as Rio brought a lantern out into the garden. “What’s that?”
“In quite a few cultures, lighting a lantern is a way of grieving someone. You don’t forget, but you let go. Literally.”
Agatha stared at the lantern. “I— I don’t know.”
“We don’t have to do it.”
“No, I want to, I just—“ Agatha took a deep breath as she reached for the lantern. She took a deep breath before letting all her memories get absorbed by the lantern. She lit it, letting it fly up to the sky tinted purple as the sun set.
“Miss you, Dad.”
Rio wanted to reach for her, wipe her tears away, but she held back. This was Agatha’s business, not hers. She shouldn’t meddle. Then, Agatha ran into Rio’s arms. Rio, once she had processed what was going on, hugged her back. They cradled each other.
“I love you,” Rio whispered.
“I love you, too,” Agatha whispered back.
“Happy birthday, Agatha.”