Iām surprised that he didnāt take minesā down, Sven thought idly as they turned their head towards the left wing of the estate.
The living room dredged up more memories ranging from seething hatred to a phantom pain. The embers of the fireplace had long died and the furniture dusty from lack of use. Nonetheless, Sven sat on one of the couches, ready to drown in baked goods, tea, and their phone. Grabbing one of the cookies, they bit down with a strange crunch.
They were stale and the tea, they realized was equally cold.
How long ago did Mom make these? They pursed their lips, motioning for its reversal.
It took about fifteen minutes, but Sven managed to get the cookies in their original, gooey form and the tea piping hot. They weren't entirely sure how long the food had been left out, but it was at least a few days. Had she been told the wrong date? It wasn't like Mom to make a mistake like that.
Before they could dig deeper however, a familiar voice interrupted their thoughts.
āRonanā¦ā
It had been ten years since Sven last saw their sibling so it was only natural that their lips would curl inward, their throat would be barely holding back a crack, and every terrible memory would come flooding back at once. There was a time when they blamed Ronan for how their father treated them. They asked themselves why Five continued to listen to father when Sven was the one picking after them. They were always the one healing, repairing the damage that everyone else did, they were Anchor Academyās āget out of jail freeā card. They...needed to calm down. Regurgitating decade-old trauma was not the point of their visit.
Sven pressed the teacup to their lips, meeting their siblingās gaze as they continued speaking. They remained silent through Ronanās fragmented speech, unsure whether the point was penitence or validation.
If you were sorry why didnāt you try to find me? The words stopped short of their lips, swallowed along with a long sip of tea.
Apologies werenāt easy. Often they were a means of deferring guilt from the perpetrator to the victim. Sven didnāt doubt Ronanās sincerity. They couldnāt lie to save their life or rather, Sven didnāt even know if they knew how to lie. Years of social isolation and emotional detachment meant that before Ronan left theyād never interacted with anyone other than the Hargreevesā family. It wasn't to say that Sven doubted Five's ability to pick up the art of deception so much as that it didn't fit them. They were far too genuine a person.
āItās fine,ā They rasped, setting their cup on the table. āIām tired of being angry.ā
It wasn't a complete lie. Sven didn't want to resent their siblings anymore. Hatchets were meant to be buried and anger drained them far more than their powers could. That was the whole reason they read those stupid self-help books in the first place. They were being manipulated. It's not their fault. For a brief second there was a flash of hesitation in the dirty blonde's eyes before they steeled themselves once more.
āSo I heard you've been traveling," They started, grabbing a cookie from the plate next to the tea set.
---
Outside of the mansion, Pogo stood unperturbed by the swelling clouds. The funeral mattered more to him than a few drops of rain. Only Vya, Sven, Nathan, and Ronan came through the front while the others were missing. He was sure that Uma and Camil-Lucky received their letters, but Lucien and Savannah were much harder to find. Government records showed that Lucien joined the military; however, his address never stayed for too long. Savannah, by nature of her gift, could take on the identity of whoever she wished, making her location an approximation at best.
I donāt suppose any of you could show one last time.