she sat watching a film on tele, whose protagonist was a human of around the same age as her, a peer perhaps. the protagonist's mother, like her own mother. while she knew it was 'just' tele, she couldn't help but feel divisively drawn towards her in ways probably unknown to her, until the point arrived where everything fell apart. the protagonist's mother dies. and she was sat, two pillows to support her back, tears in eyes. tele was on and there she was opening up at the seams, trying hard to stay gathered, but the vicariousness of tele untethered her. those few moments of absolute calm before her pregnant poise would fall apart. the protagonist stood on her knees, laying her head and palms on her mother's body, trying to whisper last few important words to her, trying to love her back into wakefulness, when she lost her stately poise.

wailing, howling even, she burst into a bundle of tears. face down, sobbing copiously into the same pillows that backed her, she cried, breaking herself, much against her own will. her grandfather heard the abundant cries in the next room and came running. wrapping his mighty, grey-haired frail arms around her, he asked 'what happened to you rani?'

'shizuka's mom died!' she was sobbing, without breaking to draw breathes.

the grandfather smiled to himself, immediately blanketed with a sorrow he had no access to in the next moment. his summer vest was soaked in her tears around the shoulder now.