Shyri removed her VR headset, blinking as the real world slowly came back into focus. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling her muscles ache after hours of immersion in the game. The familiar sounds of the TV echoed through the apartment, grounding her fully back into reality. With a yawn, she swung her legs off the bed and padded out of her room, rubbing her neck as she headed toward the living area.
As she entered the living room, the warm glow of the TV illuminated the space. Kame sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked under her, engrossed in a movie. The flicker of light from the screen bounced off her face, and when she saw Shyri approach, she gave her a playful smile.
"Well, well, the legendary gamer awakens," Kame teased, her eyes sparkling with humor. "How was your session? You've been at it all day."
Shyri plopped down on the couch next to her, still feeling the after-effects of her intense battles in the game. "It went... well. Better than I expected, honestly," she replied, a soft smirk playing on her lips as she thought about her victory over Redom. "Though it was pleasurable."
Kame chuckled and nudged her gently. "I bet. You looked like you were in the zone." She pointed toward the kitchen. "I made dinner earlier, by the way. It’s in the microwave for you."
Shyri's stomach growled at the mention of food, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in hours. "Thanks, Kame. You’re a lifesaver."
Kame laughed softly. "I know. Now go eat before it gets cold."
With a grateful nod, Shyri got up and headed to the kitchen. The smell of food greeted her as she opened the microwave, and she smiled to herself. As she retrieved the plate and sat down at the kitchen counter, she could hear the faint sounds of the movie Kame was watching in the background. It was a peaceful end to an otherwise intense day.
Shyri sat at the kitchen counter, savoring each bite of the dinner Kame had prepared. The warm flavors of the food felt comforting after hours of intense gaming, and she let out a contented sigh. Her body was still winding down from the adrenaline of her gaming session, but the real world was slowly bringing her back to a sense of calm.
Once she finished, she joined Kame on the couch, curling up with her legs tucked underneath her. The two of them silently watched the movie, letting the ambient noise of the TV fill the space. Shyri's eyes followed the action on the screen, but her mind occasionally wandered back to her recent in-game battles, reflecting on how close she had come to defeat. She glanced at Kame, who was equally engrossed in the film, the glow from the TV casting a soft light across her face.
Hours passed by as they sat there, the world outside their apartment seeming far away. The silence between them was comfortable, occasionally broken by a shared comment about the movie or a brief laugh. It felt good to relax like this.
Suddenly, a knock echoed from the apartment door, snapping both of them out of their quiet reverie. Shyri and Kame exchanged curious glances, their expressions mirroring the same unspoken question: Were you expecting anyone?
Kame shook her head, a slight frown of confusion crossing her face. "No, I didn’t. Did you?"
Shyri shook her head as well, both of them now fully alert. They turned their attention toward the door, the atmosphere in the room shifting as the knock reverberated again
Kame rose from the couch with a fluid motion, her eyes narrowing slightly as she made her way to the door. Her hand reached for the bat she kept leaned against the wall—a precautionary measure she always took seriously. Gripping the bat firmly but out of sight, she approached the door cautiously, her footsteps soft on the hardwood floor.
As she cracked the door open just a sliver, her eyes locked onto the figure standing outside. The man was imposing—tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with a solid, built frame that immediately set her on edge. His face, though, had a somewhat familiar look to it, as if she had seen it before in passing. His demeanor wasn't threatening, but Kame wasn’t one to let her guard down so easily.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady and firm, not giving away her inner tension.
The man shifted slightly, offering a friendly but neutral smile. "I’m Kalem’s cousin," he replied, his voice deep but calm. "I was hoping to talk to Shyri. Is she here?"
At the mention of Kalem, Kame's grip on the bat loosened ever so slightly. She eyed the man, still uncertain but a bit less wary now. There was something genuine about his manner, but his sudden appearance still felt strange. Kame kept her stance solid as she turned her head back slightly toward the living room where Shyri was seated.
"Shyri," she called out, her eyes never leaving the man. "There’s someone here for you. Says he’s Kalem’s cousin."
Shyri approached the door with slow, measured steps, her guard up as she caught sight of Kame gripping the bat behind the door. Kame had opened it just a little wider, still prepared for anything. The atmosphere in the apartment was tense, though not overtly hostile, as Shyri stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of the man standing there.
He was big—muscular and broad, with a presence that felt imposing even though he didn’t appear to be threatening. His face, however, seemed to betray some kind of inner struggle, like smiling wasn’t something that came easily to him. His grin looked almost painful, his eyes distant as they met Shyri’s.
As Shyri came to stand beside Kame, the man’s smile softened, and he extended his hand. In it, he held a small box, wrapped in a delicate coral-colored paper with a subtle shimmer. The wrapping was smooth and precise, clearly done with care, and it seemed almost out of place in the hands of someone as rugged as him.
"I’m Kalem’s cousin," he repeated, his voice quieter now, more intimate. "Kalem wanted you to have this… since he can’t give it to you himself tomorrow."
Shyri’s eyes flickered from the box to the man, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of Kalem. Her mind raced with questions, and a hint of confusion settled into her expression. She hesitated for a brief second, not knowing what to expect, but then she slowly reached out to take the box from his hand. The wrapping felt cool and smooth against her fingertips, and an odd, bittersweet sensation swirled in her chest.
"What is this?" she asked softly, her voice cautious but curious.
The man didn't answer right away, simply nodding before taking a small step back. The man stood in the doorway, his gaze dropping for a moment as if gathering the strength to speak. His voice was rough, heavy with emotion, as he finally explained.
"It’s a pearl bracelet," he began, his tone quieter than before, laced with sorrow. "Kalem had been at our family’s beach property the last few days. He was diving for pearls—he wanted to make that bracelet for you."
Shyri’s breath hitched, her grip tightening slightly on the coral-wrapped box. Her heart began to pound as she listened, dread creeping into her chest. The man paused, his face tightening as if the weight of what he had to say next was too much to bear.
"But… earlier today, Kalem got swept by an undersea current. It knocked him against the rocks… knocked him out." His voice faltered, his pain visible in the way his shoulders slumped. "They didn’t find his body until 20 minutes later… washed up on the rocks."
For a moment, the world around Shyri felt like it was spinning. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Kame stood frozen beside her, her grip on the bat loosening as the words sank in. The reality of what had happened hit like a wave crashing into her, overwhelming and devastating.
The man continued, his voice softer now, his eyes full of sympathy and loss. "I knew what the pearls were for… what he wanted to do for you. So, I finished the bracelet for him and brought it to you."
Tears stung Shyri’s eyes as she stared down at the small, delicate box in her hands. The weight of Kalem’s love, his effort, and the tragedy of his fate hit her all at once. The bracelet wasn’t just a gift—it was his last gesture, a final act of affection from someone who had meant so much to her.
She felt her throat tighten, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the box to her chest. "Kalem..." she whispered, her voice breaking, her heart aching for the man she now knew she’d never see again.
The man looked at her with understanding in his eyes, giving her space to process the grief. After a long pause, he nodded gently. "He wanted you to have it," he said softly, The man lingered for a moment longer, his voice steady but weighed down by the sorrow he carried. “The funeral will be a private event, just family,” he explained, his tone respectful, as though wanting to offer something in the midst of the tragedy. “But… if you come to the outshore at the edge of the city tomorrow, you’ll be able to see Kalem being sent out to sea.”
Shyri's eyes widened slightly as he continued, his words carrying the weight of a long-standing tradition. “It’s a tradition that’s been in our family for hundreds of years. We send our loved ones off to the ocean, back to the waves they cherished.”
He glanced down, almost as if imagining the ceremony himself, before looking back up at Shyri and Kame. “You don’t have to attend, but if you want to pay your respects, you’re welcome to watch from the shore. Kalem would have wanted you there.”
Shyri felt a strange, quiet reverence at the thought of Kalem’s final journey—his body returned to the sea, the same waters that had claimed him. The ocean would carry him away, just as it had carried so many before him in his family. The weight of the man’s words made the reality of it all sink in further, and it only deepened the ache in her chest.
The man’s expression softened, as though he could sense her inner turmoil. “Tomorrow evening, at sunset,” he added gently, giving her the details without pressure. “Just… think about it.”
With that, he nodded once more and stepped away from the doorway, giving them space to grieve and decide. Shyri stood in the silence that followed, her hand gripping the small box as she tried to process the magnitude of everything—Kalem, the bracelet, and now the farewell she hadn’t been prepared to face.
Kame closed the door softly after him, leaving Shyri and herself standing together, the quiet apartment now feeling far too heavy with the loss that had just been delivered. Shyri’s knees buckled beneath her. The weight of the news, the finality of Kalem’s death, hit her like a crashing wave. Her breath caught in her throat, and she crumpled, unable to hold herself up. But before she could fully fall, Kame was there, catching her, pulling her into a tight embrace as they both sank to the floor together.
Shyri’s sobs broke free, raw and uncontainable. She buried her face in Kame’s shoulder, her whole body trembling as the grief poured out of her in waves. Each tear felt like it was carving a deeper ache into her heart, the loss of Kalem suddenly too real, too immediate.
Kame held her tightly, rubbing her back, her own heart breaking for her friend. She stayed silent, knowing words wouldn’t ease the pain Shyri was feeling. Instead, she was just there—her presence steady, grounding, offering comfort as Shyri wept uncontrollably in her arms.
With one hand still wrapped around Shyri, Kame managed to pull out her phone. She kept her movements slow, careful not to disturb the fragile moment. Her fingers moved swiftly as she sent a text to Alesia:
"Kalem’s gone. He drowned. We need to go to the outshore tomorrow evening. Please, help us get there."
Alesia's response came back almost instantly, a short but urgent promise: "I’ll be there. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out."
Kame tucked her phone away, her focus back on Shyri as she continued to cry, her grief spilling out in jagged breaths. Kame’s arms remained wrapped around her friend, holding her tightly, refusing to let her fall any deeper into the despair. They stayed like that on the floor for what felt like hours, the soft sounds of Shyri’s sobs filling the room, until the exhaustion from the overwhelming emotion began to settle over them both.
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Even in her own heartache, Kame knew that Shyri was going to need her strength to get through tomorrow—and for however long it took after that. But for now, she simply stayed with her, sharing the burden of the moment. They would face tomorrow together, no matter how painful it would be.
That night stretched on endlessly for Shyri. Every minute dragged, each filled with a suffocating heaviness she couldn’t escape. The darkness around her felt almost tangible, like it was pressing in, choking her thoughts and emotions. She couldn’t sleep—how could she? Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kalem’s face, his smile, his voice calling her name, and the thought that he was gone forever crashed over her, again and again.
Kame stayed by her side, never leaving. She didn’t say much, knowing that there were no words to heal the kind of pain Shyri was feeling. Instead, she climbed into bed with her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting, protective embrace. The steady presence of Kame next to her was the only thing keeping Shyri from feeling completely lost in her grief. The warmth of her friend was an anchor in the endless storm.
But even that wasn’t enough to calm the storm in Shyri’s mind. The hours crawled by, and she remained awake, staring at the ceiling or at the wall, her chest aching with each beat of her heart. Kame didn’t sleep either, her breathing slow and quiet, staying right beside Shyri, offering silent comfort.
When morning finally came, it didn’t bring the relief Shyri had hoped for. The pain was still there, just as sharp, just as unbearable. She felt like she was dragging herself through the motions, barely able to function.
Kame, however, was already up. She moved quietly around the kitchen, her usual lively energy dimmed by concern, but she kept herself busy. She made breakfast for the both of them—nothing elaborate, just something to keep their energy up for what would surely be another long, painful day. She brought the food over to where Shyri sat, coaxing her to eat, making sure she at least had something in her stomach.
“You need to keep your strength up for tonight,” Kame said gently, watching as Shyri slowly picked at her food.
It was an effort, but Shyri forced herself to eat, knowing Kame was right. She had to get through today—somehow.
Later, there was a knock at the door. Kame opened it, and Alesia walked in, her face soft with sympathy. She didn’t say anything at first, just walked over to Shyri and wrapped her arms around her in a warm, comforting hug.
“I’m so sorry,” Alesia whispered, her voice quiet but full of emotion. She stayed like that for a long moment, just holding Shyri before pulling back, her eyes kind but worried.
“I brought Dorian and Royce with me,” Alesia said, glancing back toward the door. “They’re waiting in the car, ready to take us to the outshore whenever you’re ready.”
Shyri nodded, though she still felt hollow, like she was drifting through the day in a fog.
Alesia sat with them for a while, keeping the conversation light, though there wasn’t much to say. There was a silent understanding among them all. Today wasn’t about words. It was about being there for Shyri, supporting her through what was going to be an incredibly hard evening.
The hours passed, the sense of dread in the apartment grew, but they stuck together—Shyri, Kame, and Alesia—knowing they had to face the evening ahead, no matter how difficult it would be.
The three of them moved through the apartment in quiet unison, each of them knowing how heavy the air felt but not needing to say a word. The silence was more comforting than anything else, a mutual understanding that no words could adequately convey the gravity of what was about to happen.
Shyri stood in front of her closet, staring at her clothes, unsure of what would be appropriate. Kame, ever the one to take charge when needed, picked out a simple yet elegant dress for her—something that would keep her spirits up, just a little. It was black, soft and flowing, but not too extravagant. A dress that would allow Shyri to feel some sense of dignity, even in the face of overwhelming loss.
With a little guidance, Shyri dressed herself slowly, her movements sluggish as if her body was fighting against the very act of living through the day. Kame and Alesia helped her with the small details, Alesia fixing her hair into a neat braid and making sure she looked as presentable as she could, given the circumstances. But no matter how much they tried, the grief was still there, in every line of Shyri’s face, in the deep, hollow look in her eyes.
They moved out of the apartment quietly, making sure to lock up behind them. The air outside was cool and crisp, but it felt distant, like a dream Shyri couldn’t wake from. She clung to the calm presence of Kame and Alesia as they made their way to the limousine waiting outside.
Inside the car, the ride was long but oddly peaceful, the rhythmic hum of the engine a constant companion as the city passed by in muted flashes. The drive to the outshore was a blur of time and emotions. Shyri stared out the window, watching the world drift by, but nothing felt real anymore. Her mind was far away—on Kalem, on everything they had shared, on the tragedy that had torn their world apart.
As they arrived at the outshore, the car came to a gentle stop, and Shyri’s heart skipped a beat. The place was exactly as she’d imagined—a stretch of beach bordered by jagged cliffs, the ocean’s waves gently rolling against the shore. The crowd was gathered further ahead, a sea of somber faces, mostly strangers to Shyri but familiar in some way.
The man from the night before stood among them, his posture rigid and filled with a quiet grief that mirrored Shyri’s own. He caught her eye from across the crowd and gave her a solemn nod. Shyri couldn’t bring herself to look at him for too long. His presence only reminded her of the pain she was trying to push away, the reality she was desperate not to face.
Without thinking, without waiting for Kame or Alesia to stop her, Shyri stepped out of the car. Her feet hit the sand with an almost desperate force, and before either of them could react, she was running. She didn’t care about anything else—about the crowds, the mourners, or the sea of unfamiliar faces. She only wanted one thing: to see Kalem, one last time.
The sand shifted beneath her feet as she sprinted, her breath coming in short gasps, her chest tight with emotion. Her heart pounded in her ears as she pushed through the crowd, her eyes scanning frantically for any sign of Kalem, for the familiar warmth of his smile, his kind eyes.
“Shyri—wait!” Kame called from behind, but Shyri didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
The crowd parted before her as she neared the center of it, and there, lying on a simple wooden raft, was Kalem’s body. His once vibrant features were now pale, lifeless, and the ocean breeze tugged at his dark hair as if trying to pull him back into the sea.
Shyri froze. Her breath hitched in her throat as her vision blurred with tears. She felt her knees tremble, the world around her spinning, but she didn’t care. She staggered forward, her hands shaking as she reached out to touch the edge of the raft, her fingers grazing his cold skin.
It felt like a lifetime before she could speak, her voice barely a whisper as she choked on her words.
"Kalem... I'm sorry," she whispered, the rawness of the moment sinking in with the weight of everything she couldn’t say, everything left unsaid. Her body trembled as she knelt beside him, clutching the side of the raft, her forehead pressed against the wood, her heart breaking all over again.
Shyri’s hands trembled as they lingered on the side of the raft, her fingers brushing against Kalem’s cold skin, but it was as if a part of her was still unable to fully accept that he was gone. The world around her felt muffled, like she was submerged in a dream. Her eyes were blurry with tears, and her breath came in sharp, jagged gasps. The sounds of the gathering crowd, the soft crash of waves against the shore, all seemed distant, as if she were floating in a haze.
It was then that a voice, warm yet firm, cut through the fog of her grief.
"You must be the young woman Kalem was always talking about."
Shyri looked up, her vision still clouded with tears. An older woman had appeared beside her, kneeling with grace and a quiet strength. Her hair was silver, streaked with white, and her eyes held a depth of understanding that Shyri couldn’t quite place. The woman’s face was lined with age, but there was an undeniable warmth about her, a calm energy that seemed to draw Shyri in.
The older woman’s hands moved slowly, almost maternally, as she gently patted Shyri’s head. Her touch was soft but grounding, offering a kind of quiet solace. There was no sorrow in her expression, only a resolute strength, as though she had already reconciled with the loss but knew how much the moment still hurt for Shyri. She smiled at her—strongly, without hesitation.
“I could tell," the woman continued with a gentle chuckle, despite the circumstances. "He was always so happy when he spoke of you. It was as if every word was laced with the promise of something wonderful, something more. Today, he was supposed to take you out, wasn't he? For a date... I suppose that’s a bit of a strange irony now."
Shyri, still on her knees, found herself blinking, her heart aching as she looked up at the woman. The words felt too heavy, like they were anchoring her even deeper into the reality she couldn’t yet face. Her chest tightened, and her vision blurred even more, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I... I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb... everyone. I just wanted to..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words.
But before she could say anything more, the older woman gently but firmly took hold of her. She didn’t pull away or try to comfort her with words. Instead, the woman wrapped her arms around Shyri in a quiet embrace. There was no awkwardness, no hesitations—just warmth. The kind of embrace that didn’t ask for strength in return, the kind that understood how fragile and raw someone could be in a moment like this.
“Cry,” the woman whispered, her voice soft but resolute. “Let it all out. There’s no shame in it. He was someone special to you, and your heart deserves to mourn. You’re not alone.”
Shyri, caught off guard by the tenderness of the older woman’s embrace, found herself losing control for the first time in what felt like forever. The tears she had tried to hold back now came flooding out in great, uncontrollable waves. She cried for Kalem—her friend, her love, the person who had been so full of life and promise, yet was stolen away too soon. And she cried for herself—the part of her that had been so deeply affected by him, by his absence.
The woman held her tightly, her hands rubbing gentle circles on Shyri’s back, as if she had known exactly what Shyri needed. She didn’t speak for a while, allowing the silence to wrap around them both, letting Shyri’s grief pour out in waves.
It was only after some time, when Shyri’s sobs began to quiet, that the woman spoke again. “I know it hurts now, more than anything. But one thing I learned is that grief doesn’t have to be something you carry forever. Kalem wouldn’t want you to live with this sorrow, as heavy as it feels now. He wanted you to be happy.”
Shyri took in a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of the woman’s words, even though they couldn’t take away the pain. She didn’t want to let go of the moment—of Kalem. But at the same time, a small part of her, deep inside, felt like she needed to hear it.
With a final squeeze, the woman let Shyri pull back slightly, keeping her hands on Shyri’s shoulders, offering a quiet encouragement. “He’s at peace now. And so, my dear, you must find your peace too. In time.”
Shyri sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve as she looked up at the woman. There was a sense of quiet strength in the older woman’s gaze, a steadiness that Shyri could only aspire to. And though the pain was still there—heavy and suffocating—she realized that, for the first time since hearing the news, she felt a small flicker of something else: a fragile hope that, somehow, she could find a way to keep moving forward.
The air was thick with the weight of tradition and sorrow, the salty ocean breeze carrying the solemnity of the moment. Shyri, still tear-streaked but steadier now, stood alongside the older woman as the family gathered around. They moved in unspoken harmony, drawn together by the ritual, the memory of Kalem, and the need to honor him in the best way they knew how.
The raft that carried Kalem's body was draped with flowers, adorned with carefully chosen offerings, and anchored by the quiet, steady hands of those who loved him. The family moved in unison, their faces set with solemn resolve, pushing the raft out into the gentle waves. The water lapped against the sides of the wooden vessel, and a calm hush fell over the crowd. In the background, the rhythmic chant of an Oli Kanikau—a Hawaiian mourning chant—began. It was soft at first, rising like the wind, but soon swelled in power as the voices of the family intertwined, the words a mix of grief and respect.
As the raft was pushed further into the ocean, the family remained standing, eyes fixed on it as it drifted away from the shore. There was no rush, no panic, only reverence in the air. Shyri, though still caught in the depth of her emotions, stood taller now, watching as the raft slowly became one with the ocean’s vast expanse.
A lei, woven from delicate flowers and fragrant greens, was handed to Shyri by the gentlewoman. It was meant as a final offering, a symbol of Kalem's spirit drifting into the beyond, and it was to be tossed into the water as the raft was sent off. The weight of the gesture was not lost on Shyri. Holding the lei tightly in her hands, she fought the lump in her throat as she walked slowly toward the water’s edge, each step a reminder of the life she had lost.
She reached the water, the waves kissing her feet, and looked up at Kalem’s raft one last time. The Oli Kanikau filled the air, intertwining with the sound of the waves, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had slowed down. She took a deep breath, her heart heavy with finality, and released the lei into the ocean. It floated delicately in the water, trailing behind the raft as it drifted further away, a gentle offering to the sea, to the spirit of Kalem.
But the ceremony was not over yet. From a ridge nearby, a fire had been lit, its flames crackling and dancing brightly in the fading daylight. A stocky man, his stance strong and his eyes determined, stood with a bow in his hands. The tip of the arrow was engulfed in flame, and as he drew the string back, the crowd held its breath. Shyri, still watching the raft, heard the twang of the bowstring and watched as the arrow sailed through the air, its fiery tip trailing behind it like a comet.
The arrow struck its target with perfect precision. The raft, now far enough from the shore, was engulfed in flames. The fire spread quickly, licking at the wooden edges, turning the raft into a burning beacon upon the sea. Kalem’s final journey was marked by the fire—an honor, a tribute, a release. The flames flickered against the backdrop of the darkening sky, a symbol of Kalem’s spirit lighting the way.
As the raft burned, the leis that had been tossed into the water followed, floating behind it like gentle petals in the wind. They swirled in the current, their bright colors a reminder of Kalem’s life, of the love and friendship he had shared with everyone, and of the way he would always be remembered. Shyri stood, her hands clasped in front of her, her heart aching but in quiet acceptance, watching the fire consume the raft and carry Kalem into the unknown, his spirit forever intertwined with the ocean that had claimed him.
The chant of the Oli Kanikau lingered in the air, as if the earth itself were mourning alongside them, joining in the final farewell. Shyri allowed herself a few more moments, her gaze following the flames as they danced on the horizon. She felt the pull of the ocean, the sense of closure, and yet, the deep sadness remained. But she also felt a strange peace, a sense that Kalem was where he was meant to be—free, as he had always dreamed.
With the final flicker of the flames and the quiet murmurs of the family, the ceremony drew to a close. But for Shyri, the memory of Kalem and the weight of this final goodbye would stay with her forever.