#&humint: ten years gone

[mentalpsi]

"I miss you." Adopted Father!AU

Send me “I miss you” to know what my muse will say after 1 year, 5 years, then to 10 years after your muse’s death. | @mindofperfection​

one year,

    It took a year before Sabrina decided to visit the Harmonia manor. She wasn’t surprised when the servants recognized her, and she expected their surprised glances her way. It’s been a year, longer than, since that day and she’s never shown any interest in returning, not even for his funeral. It’s enough to stir a small commotion within the manor, even if none of them talked to her directly.

    It’s the green haired brat (read: N) that chose to confront her. He’d changed plenty since then. There was a sense of world weariness about him and, maybe, just maybe, a touch of Ghetsis. It bothered her; beyond his green hair and height, she’d never once recognized him as his son, not until now.  

   She turned down his invitation to stay for dinner.

   After all, no one ever invited her beyond the very beginning of their extremely strange relationship. She came and went as she pleased to the point they simply accepted it. Being invited made it seem like it was nothing.

    “But it wasn’t, was it?”

    She clicked her tongue, just now remembering why she’d gone there and what she hadn’t done. Even if she wanted, it wouldn’t feel right to return.

five years,

    It took her five years before she before she returned to the manor. N was there still. For some reason he’s apologizing for how things went last time. It was surprising; it had been years since she’d last shown herself there. Plenty of other events should have happened by now, leaving it an extremely vague memory.

    She brushed it off, claiming she didn’t remember.

    (But, if she didn’t, why did it take her this long to show up?)

    They talked, and she found herself glancing over at the parlor. It looked entirely different now, less Ghetsis, more … whatever N was. Childish, she supposed. He caught her look with a smile and told her that her room hasn’t changed.

    “Quit smiling, it’s creepy.”  

    There was book on her bed, small and unassuming. It looked vaguely familiar to one he’d read long ago, something she had been interested in.

   She spent the night there.

ten years,

    After ten years, there were things they didn’t talk about that she could tell he thought about. Ghetsis was one of them; his inheritance was another. Although, the latter was a stray thought she’d picked up from the boy—young man? he was about the same age as her—every once in a while. She’d found it peculiar. ‘Family’ extended solely to biological, and the assets had been given accordingly since then.   

   So, finding that the old man had given her something was both surprising and pleasing. It helped smooth away whatever irritation she had with his son over trying to find a way to show her it after all this time.

   At least, it was until she opened the box and looked at just what was inside. The familiar chessboard was there with all of the pieces still in place.

   … Except for one.

   Their game was finished, and he had won.

   “—That’s not fair.”

   More importantly, she couldn’t get a rematch.

[mentalpsi]

"I miss you"

    send me “i miss you” to know what my muse will say after       1 year, 5 years, then to 10 years after your muse’s death.                        ( meme | still accepting )

one year,

    Her name still riles you up. Maybe it’s because she’s always (always, always) doing something to make you mad when she’s around that you forget, at that moment, she isn’t there any more. And your reaction is enough to bring them to laugh (in a bittersweet way, you’d reflect later), if only because they understood why it does what it does to you.

    So, you’d remark, in that same angry tone, “I don’t pity wherever she went.” And you’d explain, she’s probably up to her usual tricks—stealing and sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. 

     The only difference, you’d say with the barest hint of satisfaction, is that she couldn’t come back.  

five years,

     Time has passed since then, and her name no longer vexes you at it once did. But, It’s grown plenty times more quiet these past few years and you’re unable to tell just why.

     Tilting your cup of tea, you frowned. The waitress was quick and attentive, just as she were towards any other. There was no underlying mischief, no sense of rivalry (whether friendly or not). She’d even passed by, momentarily breaking your thoughts to ask if you’d like more.

     No, you’d answer, and you knew exactly why it’s been quiet all along.

     “It’s not the same.” 

     She gave you a puzzled but ever polite smile, and you just wanted to rip it off. 

ten years, 

    More time has passed since the little slip long time ago, and you’ve become close to the other leaders in a more comfortable manner—even the dexholder you’d threatened long ago. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t changed as well, becoming more open to the idea of meeting the others after work, chatting about things you honestly didn’t care about, but at least he held some interesting conversations every now and then.

     And, as luck would have it, it seemed that today’s topic revolved around her, but you understood why. It’s around that time of year when a certain someone visited and the heavy air hung around, so he’d invited you (someone who understood just how vexing she could be) to lunch.  

     It was awkward, as it always was when bringing up the past, but eventually you’d both muddled through. You’d even let out a small smirk at some of his stories, refraining from saying just how much you’d both expected that to happen.

     “ ... She was a meddler, through and through,” you’d said eventually, and, much to his confusion, you’d narrow your gaze, “even more than you.”   

[mentalpsi]

I miss you.

    send me “i miss you” to know what my muse will say after       1 year, 5 years, then to 10 years after your muse’s death.                              ( meme | still accepting )

one year,

    It’s been a while since she’d glanced at her phone and tried to actually call someone, if only due to the strange sort of difficulty of trying to think of just what that abra of hers would have renamed them. Plenty of them were ridiculous (even if some of them did make sense), but she’d paused as one name had caught her eye. She let out a slow hum, if but slightly questioning, at how this had remained unchanged.

    "And here I thought Blue would be the one nostalgic," she remarked before moving on to the next one. 

five years,

    Even though five years have long come and go since then, Sabrina hadn’t changed. She was still a rain of sunshine when they invited her to those regional meets, and she’d chosen to spend most of her time leaning back in her seat, watching as they’d discussed trivial matters. Her occasional input was often targeted at someone, digging in a little too personally, before she’d let them go.

    It wasn’t all too long after that she’d stood abruptly and just left as they were in the middle of a speech to stretch her legs and walk around the city. Imagine her surprise when she found Daisy in an aftermath of a shopping spree, carelessly tossing an arm around her and half-dragging her to Green”s home.

   And that’s how she found herself with a warm cup of tea in her hands as the brunette floated about the kitchen, stocking it as if he were still here. It was perplexing, honestly. With all the offences she’d had with her family, she’d so easily welcomed her here—and that was not even considering just how. or why, they’d even managed this home.

    Without even taking a sip, she’d placed the cup back onto the coffee table, watching Daisy oh so very closely. "Why are you doing this?"

    The woman stopped, if only to tap her chin and let out a small hum. " … Because you looked like you could use a little distraction."

    "Oh." 

    "I really miss him, you know." She started, the words uttered in such a way even she could barely catch them. "It might not make much sense but--"

    "--I do too." 

     The woman turned and smiled in that all too knowing manner, and she would learn later that day, there's a reason why he acted as he did.   

ten years,

    Ten years had passed since he was gone (and not gone as she’d just come to know but the kind of gone where they needed and found another replacement for the Viridian Gym). It seemed as like it was never going to be a place she’d ever find herself at ease, filled with the memories of not one but two people she—

    Sabrina clicked her tongue before kneeling down to place a flower next to the gravestone. "It wasn’t my idea.” She’d said as she straightened once more, arms wrapped around herself as she stared elsewhere.

    Then again, it wouldn’t have been her idea to ever be there in the first place.

    It wasn’t as if she’d even gone to the processions years ago, far too awkward about the very idea of intruding on all those dex holders and general goody-two-shoes. Never mind how she’d judged just how it wouldn’t have been right, not with how she did try to kill him the first time they’ve met.

    “She said I should visit sometime, and that you’d like it.” She scoffed. "But you’re dead, so what does she know?”

[mentalpsi]

I miss you (let's pretend I'm on kasumi for this)

    send me “i miss you” to know what my muse will say after       1 year, 5 years, then to 10 years after your muse’s death.                        ( meme | still accepting )

one year,

     These regional meetings are far more quiet now, she noticed. There’s a heavy air that surround the table, more so emanating from the very spot that girl once sat, and she chooses to watch as the new leader (one so accurately aware that they would be compared to her) struggle with her duties. Erika tries, she notices, to help, but even she needs a break from the heavy atmosphere.

     It’s only after the new cerulean leader and her were around that she finally spoke, "it could be worse." And it seemed like enough for the kid (young and naive as to just what Kasumi had been up to all that time before) to cheer up significantly, walking out of the room with a lighter step.

     And she’d caught the strange look another leader gave her, waving it away without another thought. It wasn’t like she cared. It wasn’t like she was talking to the kid either.    

five years,

    It didn’t take all too long before they moved on and the new leader fit into their group dynamics. They got caught on Janine’s pranks, earned a few laughs. What they didn’t catch was the look Sabrina gave them and the smile she’d received in return. The psychic laughed quietly, earning strange looks from the entire group. 

     Janine would be the first to comment. Her naivety shielded her from Sabrina’s wrath, but she’d earned no real answers, even when the girl began to get frustrated.    

    "Even you weren’t this easy." 

ten years,

     It would be ten years before Cerulean’s leader would confront Sabrina: not for any business reasons (whether as gym leaders, or as a subordinate to a commander) but they wanted to know. It’s been years, and they’ve been a leader almost as long as Kasumi has. But it doesn’t take a genius to see, even now she’s comparing the two. Her criticisms ever more harsh when it came to things that she would have done so easily.

     ’What was she like,’ they’d asked, ‘I mean—I asked the others already but—’ They stumbled over their words, letting it drop, causing the psychic to roll her eyes and glance elsewhere.

     "She was gullible." Sabrina finally said. "Much like you." 

    And they stuttered, stumbled ever more until Sabrina turned back towards them.

     "But she’s gone and you’re not.”  

[mentalpsi]

"I miss you."

     send me “i miss you” to know what my muse will say after      1 year, 5 years, then to 10 years after your muse’s death.                          ( meme | still accepting | music )

one year,

     Even after a year, there are days where she woke up, smelling the burnt bread and eggs. She would close her eyes then, pretend it’s her before she could hear their dear mother’s voice call.

    She’d groan then, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling, and, in spite of herself, remark, "at least you had experience against you. That woman’s spent years learning how to cook, and she still can’t." 

five years,

     Five years had passed, and she is long done with high school, already working on her degree. She’s still bitter and apathetic towards most. The few that stay (if due to classes or sheer determination) know there are certain topics that they shouldn’t bring up.

     Just like how she preferred to be alone their birthday and took the time to buy a candle (not for a cake or something superfluous) but for her twin. A piece of candy was placed beside it.

     ” … I really hate sweets.” 

ten years,

     She’s an adult now: old enough to regret not spending her time wisely, but young enough to know there’s so much out there to learn, so much to be done. Her co-workers remind her of this, stacking plenty of work on her desk, trying to hinder her anyway they can (because after her second promotion, they know she’s got the determination and cunning make it to the top). 

     It’s a hard and lonely (she supposed) process but it was manageable.

     She’d still be at the office, long after everyone was gone, burning the midnight oil. There were projects to be completed, meetings to prepare for, but she’d always managed to find a small moment to herself. It was only during those rare moments of fragility that she’d open her wallet and stare at one of the very few pictures they had.

     ” … happy birthday. ”