HOTARU
Waiting him out is easy. If there's one thing Hotaru seems to have a knack for, it's bringing stoic men into her life. Not that her kids were any better, reticent and reluctant to come to her for help as they had been. But it makes it easier to patiently wait for his response, though it doesn't come until they're both seated. She hums softly and waves away his apology, sensing the cracks that are widening in him. "It's not a bother, you're always welcome here." Perhaps a bit bold of her to say, but it's the truth. She's fond of him, in a weird way. He is welcome in her home, whether it be to discuss business or to lean on her shoulder. It seems tonight is the latter. The words are dragged out of him painfully, and at first she's confused - the name is unfamiliar, she had never learned it - but Hotaru is a bright woman and it clicks soon enough. His flame. Sputtered out and removed from this world. Hotaru leans forward from where she sits, rests a gentle hand on top of his to stop him from wringing his wrists. Her eyes are soft and understanding. "Would a drink help you talk about this? Or would you prefer to stay sober?" She doesn't say she's sorry, because it wouldn't matter. It doesn't help the agony of the wound, and she knows it firsthand. What she can do is offer him a new question, a choice, let him regain some control of his life in baby steps. Surely he has thought about this matter enough, but giving him time while she fetches the alcohol is the least she can do.
I am a breathtaking mosaic
of all the battles I've won
of all the battles I've won
