The funeral was held at a small chapel. There weren’t many guests when we arrived. Sol beckoned me to follow him. “Ren and Eli want to stay in the front garden for a bit, we can go in first.”

Through the windows, I could see them already sitting outside on one of the benches. Ren wore that big, bright smile he always had. Watching him, I remembered Sol used to smile just as often and just as brightly—but not anymore. Perhaps he rubbed off on me, and I apologise for that.

“It’s as if they’re dating,” I said, more matter-of-fact than I intended.

“I think they are.”

I remembered Eli reddening when I’d asked why they were at the café.

Obviously, we’d interrupted their little date.

Haru was in the chapel. Reclining across one of the long wooden pews, he twiddled his fingers while talking to Nora, who sat near his head.

Since we’d arrived early, most of the guests hadn’t come yet. The chapel seats remained largely empty.

Even so, I still wanted to sit near the back.

A hand wrapped around my wrist. Sol’s.

For a brief moment, something like rue flashed across his face before easing into a comforting grin.

“No, let’s sit at the front.”

As he dragged me along, his grip tightened just enough to hurt.

Sol had always been patient with me. Following along with what he wanted, every now and then, only felt fair.

Besides, he had never led me astray.

“Sol, enough. We’re too close to the front,” I hissed.

He ignored me and kept pulling until he finally sat me down in the front row, right beside Mrs Lorne.

Rubbing my sore wrist, I snarled at Sol. He only shrugged, averting his eyes.

Turning to Mrs Lorne, I found her consumed with worry. She kept checking her clothes, her compact mirror, her shoes—restless hands chasing reassurance.

“Do I look good?” she asked, after noticing me stare.

The makeup softened her features, making her look younger. Usually, people who asked that question were vain.

I didn’t think that was the case for her.

The way she asked me the question was so grounded that it sounded more like a statement.

After a short pause, I answered slowly.

“You don’t need makeup to look good.”

She considered my response carefully. The atmosphere around her made me answer honestly instead of offering the usual encouragement.

Seemingly satisfied, she turned back to her husband seated beside her.

The front row gave me a clear view of the coffin and the framed photograph resting beside it. Compared to the pictures in Mae’s house, she looked older in this one.

It had clearly been cropped from a larger photo. I doubted the Lornes had many recent pictures of Mae alone.

Her lips were pursed in a straight line. No frown. No creases. No smile.

Her eyes were simply open.

There was little in them. Neither warmth nor bitterness.

“Haru was at the other funeral too,” Sol remarked suddenly.

“I didn’t think you’d noticed him.”

“I have a knack for noticing people like that.”

He turned toward me, close enough that our noses nearly touched.

“They carry this… air around them.”

We stayed like that for a second, before Sol pried his eyes away, waving over Ren and Eli who had just come in.

After settling into their seats, Ren pulled Eli into a small hug.

“I care about you,” he whispered.

I hadn’t realised their conversation outside had been that sombre.

Sol didn’t seem to hear it, but I did.

Curiosity gnawed at me. I wanted to know what Eli had told Ren. Then maybe I could say the exact same things Ren did, and become someone people relied on too.

I wondered if Eli had told Ren more than he’d told me.

Maybe I simply wasn’t worth opening up to.

While waiting for the funeral service to begin, I felt an unmistakable gaze digging into my back—sharp as needles. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it belonged to.

Still, whenever I glanced back, I’d catch Haru staring at me with those steely eyes.

Was my head tilted too low? Was my suit too crinkled? Were my shoulders hunched?

I straightened myself instinctively.

Only then did I wonder why I cared so much about looking presentable in front of him.

He was pressuring.

An officiant stepped forward and began the service with a recited speech.

The words washed over me. To him, this was simply his job.

All the while, Mrs Lorne traced the lines of her husband’s open palm. He never pulled away. Sometimes, he would gently close his hand around hers.

When the officiant stepped down, the Lornes took the podium.

They thanked Mae for being part of their lives. They apologised for not understanding her better, for not being able to help her more, for not being enough.

It was a heartfelt speech for their daughter.

Yet somehow, it sounded like they believed she had chosen to die long before she actually did.

Sol listened attentively, calm as ever.

Eli kept his eyes lowered.

Ren’s eyes glistened with tears, his fingers loosely interlocked in his lap. Maybe the speech had struck too close to home. Then again, Ren had always been emotional.

After laying the flowers they’d been holding onto Mae’s casket, Mr and Mrs Lorne returned to their seats.

A breeze drifted into the chapel—cool, soothing, almost refreshing. It disturbed the stillness just enough for a single petal to loosen from one of the bouquets atop the casket.

It fluttered gently to the floor, landing before Mrs Lorne just as she sat down.

She froze. One hand still reaching for her seat, suspended halfway in the air.

Mr Lorne looked ready to ask what was wrong, not having noticed the fallen petal yet, but he stayed quiet and allowed her the time to gather herself.

Her lips parted a little. She didn’t blink.

Then, slowly—almost reverently—she bent down and picked it up.

A single white petal rested in her palm, fragile and already beginning to bruise along the edge where it had torn away.

Her fingers closed around the petal. Her other hand trembled, fingers wriggling against themselves before curling tight.

Immediately, Mr Lorne pulled her into his arms. He said nothing. Just breathed. Heavy and steady. Into the silence.

He had been so steadfast, so observant throughout the entire service.

So when I saw his eyes squeeze shut, I felt a strange sense of pride at being more composed than he was.

The feeling sat wrong in my chest almost immediately.

The service carried on. It had to.

With every passing speaker, Ren sank deeper into his chair. He barely seemed to hear any of them anymore.

His thoughts were still lingering on what the Lornes had said earlier.

As we listened to yet another dishonest eulogy, Ren abruptly excused himself before hurrying out of the chapel.

Sol watched him leave without a word. I turned toward Eli instead.

The young officer looked at me desperately.

“Please go after him.”

“Aren’t you a better fit for that?”

“That day we talked…” He faltered briefly. “Being able to tell you those things helped me bring it up with him too.”

Eli swallowed.

“You lend a good ear.”

I didn’t understand why Eli trusted me.

Still, I was glad he had chosen me.

Stepping out of the chapel, I found Ren sitting on the same bench he and Eli had occupied earlier, his head tilted back toward the sky.

I made my way over slowly.

“Eli, is that you?” he asked without looking.

“No. It’s me.”

Startled by my voice, Ren immediately sat upright.

“Oh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What brings you out here?”

Sitting down beside him, I cleared my throat.

“You didn’t look too good earlier,” I muttered. “Just… know that we’re here for you, alright?”

The words felt borrowed. Practised.

Ren let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“My parents used to say that too.”

Something in his response made anxiety creep up my spine. I worried he thought I was patronising him.

Ren definitely caught the discomfort on my face because he quickly added, “It’s not you.”

He was surprisingly perceptive.

“Ren, you’re a really nice guy.”

“I hear that a lot.”

“Seeing you this down makes me feel bad. Especially since I care about you.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I realised I’d echoed another one of his phrases.

Ren leaned back against the bench, one arm draped across the backrest as he inhaled deeply.

“You seem relaxed,” I noted.

“I should be.”

We stayed like that for a short while before Ren stood up and rushed us back in, saying that we’d miss the funeral service.

On the way to our seats, we passed by Haru.

Strangely, he paid us no attention at all. One hand pressed against his forehead, slowly massaging the creases there while his eyes remained shut.

I slowed down just enough for him to notice, then picked up my pace and walked past as if I hadn’t.

Ren slipped back into his seat beside Eli as though he had never left.

Eli leaned toward him slightly.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Ren gave a faint smile. “Yeah.”

It was the same smile he always wore, only smaller now. Tired around the edges.

Without thinking, my eyes drifted toward Sol.

He was already watching me.

Momentarily, he looked oddly relieved. Then he smiled and motioned for me to sit beside him again.