The Funeral

Oleander’s funeral was as somber as one could expect. Misha found himself standing at the edge of the crowd, staring awkwardly as the masses moved towards the church—a flow he wasn’t sure he could naturally join. He wasn’t really the religious type of succubun, and his presence probably didn’t make much of a difference. Still, even to someone as indifferent as him, Oleander’s sudden death had come as a shock.

It would have felt wrong not to come.

Misha took a step to the side, watching how the crowd mourned and paid their respects to the deceased priest. It was strange, though; Oleander had seemed fine during the All-Sinner’s Day celebration, not deviating too much from his usual holy-yet-horny persona. So how had his death happened so abruptly?

Lost in thought, Misha found himself moving forward, gradually blending into the crowd. His feet moved on their own, following the unspoken instructions of the ceremony. He looked around, searching in the crowd for any sort of familiar face.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to being surrounded by so many people. Working in the idol industry had him cooped up in small spaces with more buns than one should ever be around. But this was different. He found himself looking for… something. Some kind of support? There was just this uneasy feeling about this whole ordeal. 

The closed casket was the cherry on top.

Misha kept taking small steps forward. The sobbing of the church followers softly echoing through the church, getting louder the closer he got. He couldn’t quite get it. He was appalled that this kind of crime could happen in what once had seemed like a rather peaceful community, but he wasn’t… in pain. Maybe that’s what happens when you’re not a faithful follower.

Just then, he felt a tug on his arm—someone dragging him away from the movement of the crowd, farther away from the casket. He turned to see who had interrupted him, especially during such a delicate moment, and saw Laurent’s familiar, smug smile.

“Misha, I thought you refused to ever set foot near the church.” Laurent said, his voice light, almost teasing, “Sad to see you under these circumstances, but always happy to see you finally found your way back!” His shit-eating grin was as infuriating as ever.

Laurent—his littermate and the main reason for his ‘neutral’ stance towards the church—had been the one to drag him away. He was what Misha would describe as an annoying fraud of a priest, who, despite not truly believing in what the church sold, would preach to the poor souls who believed his act. Misha had never understood why, despite not being a true believer, Laurent would be so insistent on him attending mass or any other religious celebration. Perhaps to annoy him, in which case he’d succeeded.

Misha let out a long sigh. “I’m here to pay my respects, Laurent,” he said, staring at the ‘priest’ “Maybe try to look a little more mournful or something.”

Laurent’s smile didn’t falter, used to Misha’s apathetic attitude. He leaned closer and gave Misha a playful pat on the back.

 “A lost sheep returning home is always a cause for celebration.”

It seemed Laurent had more to say, but they hadn’t moved that far away from the main crowd, and a few more of depressed followers had noticed the presence of the ‘fake’ priest and approached him seeking comfort. 

Taking the opportunity to slip away, Misha stepped back into the line, closer to the casket.

In a way, seeing Laurent had helped. He was still unsure of how to feel about this whole ordeal but seeing the other pride bun had given him a sense of normalcy in this strange situation. Oleander was still gone, but Laurent was also still annoying. The world kept on moving, it seemed.

Somehow, the closer he got, the more the place seemed to get smaller, everyone in attendance pressing closer together as if the faster they reached the casket, the faster their feelings of sorrow would go away.

Misha felt a sense of anxiety creep inside of him. He stared at the scene unfolding, the church decorated with funeral flowers, people crying and sniffling, everyone saying their last goodbyes. It was what he had expected, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

What he had not expected was the church’s decision to have a closed casket funeral. It went against everything he knew about Oleander. The priest had been a charmer, loving both his faith and followers. He would have seemed the type to want an open casket, if not for people to mourn the loss of his beauty, at least to give the church followers one last proper goodbye.

As he finally reached the end of the line, Misha saw Mercy standing near it, sobbing softly against their handkerchief and receiving everyone’s condolences. Misha hesitated only for a moment before stepping forward, taking their hand in his.

“This is hard for everyone, but I can’t imagine how much harder it is for you,” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle but steady.

Mercy wiped their tears and cleared their throat. “Thank you,” they said. “I am sure he would have appreciated your presence.” They smiled, though it didn’t feel genuine.

After offering his condolences, Misha turned his attention to the casket. His turn to pay his respects had finally arrived. As he stared at the closed coffin, he closed his eyes and tried his best to give his respects. He wasn’t sure how one was supposed to ‘pray’, but he still tried to mimic what he thought was expected of him. He thought about Oleander, hoped for his safe passing, and finished what he hoped looked like a prayer. 

He didn’t feel any lighter, or less uneasy than before, but at least he had done what was expected of him.

With the ceremony still far from over, Misha moved towards the church’s exit. It was there, in the garden, where Oleander would finally be buried. The air felt less suffocating outside, but the gloomy atmosphere didn’t really go away. It seemed that the weight of the day wasn’t something he could easily shake off.

Hours passed. And after all of the attendees had finished saying their goodbyes, it was finally time to lower Oleander’s casket into the grave. The crowd’s sobbing only got louder as his casket was covered in dirt. 

Once the deal was done, Misha stood in place, still staring at the scene. It seemed weird how fast everything seemed to happen, from mourning to burying, but it was finally time to leave.  As he turned away, something caught his eye. Two buns stood off to the side, their mood seemingly out of place. Misha blinked, trying to make sense of them.

It was Dove and Jackal. The couple were notorious for being rarely apart, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for both to be together. But there was something that felt… off.

Dove, in particular, seemed oddly calm about the situation. They had only arrived in Burrowgatory not too long ago, and this probably was their first experience with loss since moving over. They certainly knew about death, heavenly meadows limiting a cherubun’s lifespan, but Misha was sure there was no murder where they came from.

So why weren’t they more affected?

He could understand how someone like Jackal would be okay, but Dove didn’t make sense. He caught himself staring at the couple and quickly turned his gaze elsewhere, hoping they hadn’t noticed him watching. Still he stayed still, not getting any closer or further away from them.

Then he saw Mercy rushing in his direction. Misha paused, wondering if there was any reason as to why they might speak again, but before he could think of one, they sped past him, heading straight for Dove and Jackal. Misha watched as Mercy rushed toward the pair, looking around nervously as if to make sure no one was watching. Then whispered something to the two other buns, their voice too quiet for Misha to hear.

Though he had no interest in gossip, he couldn’t help but to try to listen in. Anything to help ease the anxiety that was settling in his gut.

He couldn’t make out their words, but he could see their expressions clearly. Mercy was tense, quickly talking in quiet whispers as if there was something urgent they needed to address—something other than Oleander’s passing. Dove, while still calm, wore a frown— a crease forming between her brows that seemed so uncharacteristic of the cherubun. They should have been in tears by now, yet there they were, nodding intently and replying back to the hushed conversation. And Jackal… Jackal just seemed tense, her posture was stiff and anger radiating off of her. She muttered something back, her voice low and sharp.

On their own, Misha wouldn’t have thought much of it.

But as a group? It was odd. 

At least, that’s how it felt to him. The three of them huddled together, exchanging low whispers over  something they didn’t want anyone else to know about. The trio seemed to reach some sort of agreement, but just as Misha thought their conversation was over, Jackal’s sharp eyes snapped to him. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and Misha quickly turned away. He wasn’t sure if Jackal had noticed him from the start, but it shouldn’t matter. He hadn’t done anything wrong… had he?

He tried to shake the feeling that something was off, and decided to step back, hoping to slip away unnoticed. He didn’t know what was going on, but it felt like something he shouldn’t interfere with.

Just as he turned to leave, a hand gripped him by his shoulder. He froze and turned around to find Jackal standing behind him, her expression stern. He had been found out. Her grip was firm,  but what she said next caught him by surprise. “Don’t stick your nose into this mess kid,” she grunted, “This is one you don’t wanna get involved with.”

Misha blinked a couple of times, surprised by the direct warning. She was trying to intimidate him, but something about her tone suggested that it wasn’t just hostility. It seemed like she was doing it out of care, at least in her own way.

Just when he was about to reply, Dove stepped forward, gently placing their hand on top of Jackal’s, guiding it away from Misha’s shoulder. “You can’t just scare people like that, Jackal!” They said, their voice soft but firm. “But… she is right,” they added, their expression turning into a more serious one. “Please, Misha, try to stay safe.”

Misha nodded slowly, still processing what had just happened. He turned to look at Mercy, who had also joined Jackal when she had approached him. They gave him a small, reassuring smile. “They are right,” Mercy said. “Please be careful.”

Before Misha could even reply, the trio moved away, seemingly done with their warnings. They were clearly preoccupied with whatever pressing matter that had them whispering in the first place. He watched them walk off, still feeling confused. He wasn’t sure of what had exactly happened, but he knew better than not to listen to their warnings. 

The strange feeling never quite went away, but at least now he knew he wasn’t imagining it. He’d have to ask for a day off from work—ugh, he wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

He glanced one last time at Oleander’s burial site, then he started walking towards the exit.

Oleander was gone, and he had a call to make. The world kept on moving, indeed.