Awa'altu High: ATWOW highschool au!!

Ronal

Out of her three older children, Rotxo was the one who was the most emotionally independent, at least from Ronal's perspective. This was expected, seeing as technically he wasn't her child, and he was forced to grow up much, much sooner than most kids. But, in every other respect, he was almost more sensitive than Ao'nung and Tsireya. Sensitive wasn't the right word. Not quite needy, but more desperate than simply 'dependent'. He craved a mother, but not Ronal. Over the years, they grew closer, but at first it was very, very difficult to get him to open up about anything. He would laugh everything off, no matter how tragic the situation. The first and only time she saw him cry tears of sadness was when his mother died, and she doubted he even knew she was in the room at that time. So, when Rotxo called her, practically drowning in his own tears, Ronal knew the situation was severe. She spoke to him gently, not with the artificial warmth of a doctor, but with the genuine concern of a mother. She hoped he could pick up on the difference. When she had first picked up the phone, the sound of his labored breathing and choked sobs sent her heart rate spiking. She couldn't understand what he was saying. She was able to get his location from life360 and was on her way to his grandmother's nursing home now. Her dementia was getting worse. While Rotxo opted against getting her medical records, Ronal had begged to be able to see them. Someone needed to look out for that poor boy, and she knew it had to be her.

"I'm going to come get you, okay?" she had murmured, once he seemed to be able to catch his breath. "Please- please don't hang up," he whispered, taking several rapid gulps of air. "Okay, I won't," she reassured, gesturing wildly to Tonowari. "Keys. Where are my keys?" she mouthed. He thought for a second and then pointed to the bowl by the garage door. She shot him a thumbs up. "Are you there?" Rotxo mumbled, voice strained. "Yes, honey, I'm here," she whispered, keeping her voice gentle. "Would you be able to tell me what happened?" He took a shaky breath. Ronal started her car. "I was painting her nails- I always do that, purple, because that's her favorite, and- and I hadn't in so long because she had that- that procedure, and I couldn't- I didn't want to see her in a hospital bed, and I know that's selfish, and I know I should've, and I-" his voice broke. Ronal was white knuckling her steering wheel, subconsciously begging the car in front of her to go faster. "Hey, hey," she soothed, voice soft. "Take a breath with me. In," she heard him inhale shakily. "Hold for 4," she whispered. "Exhale," she finished gently. "T-thank you," he mumbled. "But- I was painting her nails, and we were talking. She knew who I was. I didn't even have to tell her. She- oh, wait, she knew who Ao'nung and Tsireya were, too. She asked me to record his surf meet and put it on the tv so we could watch it together. Then- then she laughed, and it sounded exactly like hers. Like- like mama." Ronal winced. She knew exactly what Maeva's laugh sounded like- warm and healthy and full of utter joy. She knew how much Maeva loved her baby boy. Rotxo probably was able to recognize the sound before he even knew what his name was. "And then, I just- I started to sweat, and shake, and my head started pounding, and I had to take a break. Just for a few minutes. It was just a few minutes, and by the time I came back, she-" he swallowed, sniffling. "She forgot me. I was just there, and she forgot me. That fast. And, that wouldn't even hurt my feelings. I know it's not my fault, or hers. But- she called me Maeva. And- and my hair is short." "Oh, sweet boy," she whispered, barely audibly. "She called me Maeva. Said that my baby boy was all grown up and that he was graduating soon." Ronal covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing the lump that was rising in her throat. "And I just went along with it. I just- I said 'yes, mama' and I ran. I spilled-" his whispered voice had grown raspy and high pitched. She knew he was trying not to cry. "I spilled her nail polish all over my hands. It smells so strong. My head hurts so, so bad, and now it's probably all over my phone, too." Ronal heard the sob building in his throat finally break free from his lips. "I didn't even finish her nails," he whispered. I didn't even-" Ronal pulled into the parking lot. She didn't even bother finding a spot- she just put her car in park off to the side and turned it off, running inside to find him.

The security nurses at the front desk greeted her with sad eyes of recognition. "Where is he?" she whispered, voice low. "He's- come with me," one of them said, getting to his feet. Ronal followed him closely. Rotxo was hiding in the small outdoor garden area, huddled in a ball in the corner. His knees were up to his chest, hiding his face. He had clasped both hands over his ears. 'The beeping,' Ronal thought, feeling pity spread across her chest. "I got him," she whispered to the guard, giving him a look of thanks. Rotxo's head lifted slowly as she approached. She froze as they locked eyes. She didn't know what he wanted, what he would be okay with. His almond eyes had grown puffy with tears and his eyebags were red and swollen. He sniffled and scrambled to his feet. His jaw shook with barely-contained tears. He took a single deep breath and broke, face crumpling. He walked over to her and let her pull him to her chest. She held the back of his head to the crook of her neck with one hand, the other on his back. Ronal felt his chest shake with deep sobs. She marveled at how similar the whole thing felt to comforting Iolana when she was upset. "Sweet boy," she whispered into his hair, kissing the side of his head gently. "I didn't finish her nails," he sobbed, pressing his eyes into her shoulder. "I know, I know," she murmured, rubbing his back gently. "And- and my hands are so-" "Bug," she whispered, taking his face in both hands and looking him in the eye. She hadn't called him bug since he was seven. She saw his eyes flicker at the use of his old nickname. "Breathe with me, okay?" They inhaled and held till the count of 4 and then exhaled as one. The two of them repeated this several times until he was no longer gulping for air. "Will you come sit with me?" she asked gently. He shook his head rapidly, eyes wide. "No. The beeping. I can't-" "We can sit out here," she said, tilting her head to the side and smiling. "Oh. Okay." She sat on the grass, cross legged, and gestured for him to join her. He did, folding his hands in his lap. She was always shocked by how certain things her children did brought her back to when they were small. For example, Rotxo's expression and pose brought her the strongest wave of nostalgia she had felt in a long time. "You might not see it this way," she whispered softly, taking his hand and rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. "But, one day, it won't hurt when people say you look like your mother. It won't be heart shattering. It will make you smile, will make you reminisce. She lives on in you. People everyday get to see her face because they are seeing you. I think that is a beautiful thought. And, I think, one day, you will be able to stop taking responsibility for your mama's passing, sweet boy. I know that you do. You always have. I see how you carry grief. You disguise it as anger, as shame." Ronal looked him in his tear-filled eyes. "She fought so, so hard, for so, so long," he whispered. "I never talk about her. Should I? She deserves to be known. By everyone." Ronal nodded. "They know you. You have her smile, her laugh. You have her ability to find the humor in every situation, and the gold in every person. You have every bit of her sweet heart. The best parts of her live in you, child. Your grandmother felt the presence of her child enter the room when you did. She is always with you. She promised she would be." He looked up at her. She could see realization dawn on him as his lower lip began to tremble. "You were- you were there," he mumbled. She nodded, opening her arms as he clung to her shoulders in a desperate embrace.