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Tayui shook her head slowly, trying to get rid of these thoughts. The thoughts that Noir was dead, that she wasn’t coming back. She closed her eyes, trying to make it stop, trying to make it so it never really happened. But the brush of the dirty toy brought her back to reality and the guilt and sorrow washed over her anew. She did not want to her Aurèle’s attempts at consolation; there was no way her sister could put enough emotion in her voice to make it sound like she cared. Tayui didn’t want to look at her now, not because of this. She wanted someone to hold her and tell her it would be alright, but she knew her sister would not be able to do that. She couldn’t even put enough feeling into her apology. It was empty. There was nothing in her words; they were empty and blank.
Tayui wanted to lash out and cry and pretend it wasn’t real. She wanted to demand answers from Aurèle, refuse to allow her sister to leave until she gave her a proper apology. Until she showed she actually cared for what Tayui felt and what she wanted. She wanted a sister right now, not some faceless soldier who only brought bad news and false condolences. Tayui wanted to weep and forget about everything else except the pain, the pain that her daughter, her loving daughter was gone. She had been a child of the sun, like honey and sunbeams; she had been the picture of innocence. She had never hurt anyone and had helped Claudius so much. She had loved Noir so much that knowing she was dead hurt that much more.
“Just… just…” she started, trying to express her feelings. She didn’t know what she wanted now. She wanted to hold her daughter again. That was what she wanted; but it would never come true. She wanted her family again. She wanted to know that Océane and everyone in her life was alright. That her other daughter was not dead as well. She wanted them to stop dying. It couldn’t be happening again. Not after Shaeniire had died and Ember, too. Not after Agani had left her when she had needed him most, and returned to her when she had put the memories behind her. He had left her, too. And now Noir was gone, not of her own accord, but she was still gone.
“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed, clutching the toy tighter.