The Blame (Prequel)
Arthur’s Note: This is a prequel from the story that I did which is also titled as “The Blame”. You can read it up if you want. That is just the story about Kanoa having those sudden flashbacks that he thought he got over with a long time ago. So this story is about the past that CAUSES Kanoa’s mental and emotional issues. Of how he had to deal with the blame from his older brother and also thought about his whole family. After returning from the mission of saving his little sister. And now, they have decided to discuss it. So hold on tight and enjoy!
⚠️CW: Swear Words, Family Issues, Physical Violence, Verbal Abuse, Blood, Mention about Sex, Suicide⚠️
Taputimu, American Samoa At the Toa’s Family House 19th Oct 2017 21:00 PM
“HOW?!”
The roar exploded from inside the house, shaking the walls that held generations of laughter, prayer, and family gatherings. Now those same walls held fury.
“How the FUCK could you lose her?!”
“Sami, onosa’i—”
“LEAI! Don’t tell me to calm down when this BASTARD can’t even look after our sister! Our YOUNGER sister!”
Sami paced like a storm trapped in human form, boots thudding against the wooden floor. His eyes were locked on his younger brother, who sat on the ground with his head bowed in shame.
Sami had just returned home from the Navy. He came back expecting relief, familiarity—home. Instead, he was met with horror. Their sister had been kidnapped. Missing. Gone.
And no one knew where she was.
His fury had been simmering since the moment he stepped through the door. Now it boiled over.
Rangi stood and approached him carefully, voice low and steady. “Sami, fa’amolemole. Mama, Papa, and the Chief are on their way back from the hospital. Let’s not make a scene.”
“I would rather deal with this NOW than later!” Sami snapped, turning on him. His eyes were blazing. “Do you have ANY idea how much heartache I felt when you told me about Tia’s disappearance? I came here as fast as I could! It took me several fucking hours to get home—and you’re telling me it’s been FIVE MONTHS? Five months of not knowing if she’s even alive?!”
Guilt twisted in Rangi’s chest. He remembered when Tia finally returned home—how she screamed in terror at the sight of him, even when he stood feet away, hands raised, trying to comfort her.
“I don’t know exactly what happened to her,” Sami continued, his voice trembling with rage, “but I know it’s not fucking good.”
His gaze shifted to the young man still sitting on the floor.
“And it’s all because of YOU.”
Kanoa didn’t lift his head. Shame pressed him down heavier than gravity ever could.
Around the room, relatives whispered behind their hands. Their eyes cut toward him. Judgment lingered thick in the air.
“Stand up.”
“Sami—”
“NA OU FAI TU I TU!”
Kanoa rose instantly. His fists hung stiff at his sides, shaking from how tightly he clenched them. His eyes remained fixed on the floor.
“Va'ai mai ia te a’u,” Sami demanded.
No movement.
Serah, Sami's wife, stepped forward, fear lining her face. “Sami, la’u pele. Please stop.”
He ignored her.
“I said LOOK AT ME, Kanoa.”
Slowly, Kanoa lifted his gaze.
That was all it took.
Sami lunged forward and grabbed his face roughly.
“I said LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!”
Kanoa flinched at the force. Sami searched his eyes—and what he saw was fear.
It only fueled him further.
“Aisea? Aisea e te taofia ai lenei mea mai ia te a’u ah?”
Tears welled in Kanoa’s eyes.
“Oh, NOW you’re crying?” Sami scoffed. “You’re crying now because of what happened?”
The punch came without warning.
A sickening crack echoed through the room as Kanoa fell to the floor.
Gasps filled the house.
Sami was on him instantly, gripping his shirt, shaking him.
“Because of how STUPID you are for losing her?! HUH?! IS THAT IT?!”
His fists rained down—left, right, again and again—painting bruises and splitting skin.
Rangi and the cousins rushed forward.
“SAMI! TAOFI FA’AMOLEMOLE!” Rangi grabbed his arm but was thrown back with brutal force, crashing into the floor.
Sami shoved the others away like they weighed nothing.
“YOU LOST HER FOR FIVE FUCKING MONTHS AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?! YOU SELFISH, FUCKED-UP BASTARD!”
He kept hitting him.
Serah sobbed. “SAMI! STOP IT! YOU’RE HURTING HIM!” The aunties restrained her, afraid she’d get caught in the violence.
Rangi staggered to his feet, vision swimming. “N-Noa…”
With a burst of strength, he charged and tackled Sami off Kanoa. The cousins piled in, pinning Sami down.
“SAMI! FILEMU I LALO!”
While they struggled to restrain him, Kanoa lay motionless, coughing blood onto the wooden floor. His vision blurred. Shadows moved above him. Voices became distant, muffled echoes underwater.
“NOA! OH MY GOD!”
Serah dropped to her knees and cradled his head in her lap. “Stay with me! Keep your eyes open!” she begged, patting his cheeks.
The women rushed for towels and the first aid kit, hands trembling as they pressed cloth to his wounds.
And then—
“O LE A LE MEA O FAIA INEI?!”
Silence.
The Chief stood in the doorway with the parents behind him.
Nakoa froze at the sight. Elei gasped, her hand flying to her mouth—until her eyes landed on Kanoa.
“La’u pepe!”
She ran to him, collapsing at his side. “KANOA!” She gathered him into her arms, sobbing at the sight of his bruised and bloodied face.
The Chief looked toward Nakoa. The father’s silence was heavier than any shout.
Understanding the weight of it, the Chief cleared his throat and gave his orders.
The boys were to release Sami and take him to the family’s Fale Samoa. The women were to bring Kanoa to his room and tend to him. Everyone else—except the elders—was to return home.
The elders would meet.
This would be discussed.
Order slowly replaced chaos.
As people moved, the Chief rested a steady hand on Nakoa’s shoulder.
“Onosa’i, uso. We’ll discuss this there.”
He walked ahead.
Nakoa remained still for a moment, watching Sami being dragged away, still thrashing in restrained fury. Watching his youngest son carried down the hall in his mother’s arms.
His family was breaking before his eyes.
He inhaled deeply, lifted his chin, and followed the Chief toward the Fale Samoa.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toa’s Family House 22:50 PM
Kanoa was in his room. Laying on his bed while looking up from the ceiling. Having a bandage on his cheek and nose. As he still has those bruises on his face. It doesn’t hurt that much now but his heart is. The aching pain from the thoughts of Sami’s words. Saying how careless he was for not telling him.
Kanoa knows deep down in that his older brother wasn’t wrong. He thought he was selfish as well. Not telling him about their Sister’s kidnapping. About their sister’s being a sex slave to those cartels. All those horrible things that she had been going through.
If only he would just let Rangi call Sami about this. But he didn’t…he didn’t because of pure guilt and pride of breaking the promises that he had made with him. The promise that has been broken ever since that incident.
And now…Sami will never look him in the eyes. He wouldn’t DARE to look at a traitor. He won’t see Kanoa as a brother he once knew. But a coward.
All these things that Kanoa has been thinking about. Weigh so much into his heart as it made him teared up. Closing his eyes as he felt the burning feeling from it. Remembering the image of his poor sister. With all the burnt on her arm, the scars on her body and even the bruises. He also remembers how she screamed and yelled at him when she woke up.
“GET AWAY! DON’T TOUCH ME! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”
Those are the words that she had said to him before he left the hospital. He opened his eyes before sitting up. Staring at the wall before slowly moving himself to sit at the edge of his bed. Letting his feet touch the cold floor.
Until he saw his door was cracked open, seeing the light shining through and heard voices from it. He slowly stood up and walked over as he took a peek from it. Didn’t see anyone in the hallway so he thinks that it comes from the living room. He stepped outside of his room and walked through the hallway, following the voices.
And there he saw his mother, Serah and some of his aunties. Sitting on the chairs in the living room. As they were talking about what happened tonight and the women tried to comfort his mother.
“Elei, soloi ou loimata. I’m sure your son didn’t mean to hurt Kanoa.” That one aunty said it softly as she passed a paper tissue to the mother.
She took it from her and started to blow her nose through it as her tears still streamed down from her eyes. “He ALMOST killed him! Do I really need another child of mine to be in that hospital?!”
Serah, who was next to the mother, gently put her hands on the side of her shoulders before rubbing it. “Mama. I will talk to him after their meeting. Okay? Sami wouldn’t even DARE to do that to his own brother.”
Well, it almost feels like that he wanted to kill him.
“I know…but it’s unbelievable how he could react to this…” The mother took another tissue from the same Aunty and wiped her tears.
“Well, he has no right to physically HURT Kanoa but his words about him are not wrong.” The other Aunty who was just sitting on the floor, fanning herself. Giving that disappointing look.
The young woman who was next to that Aunty, looked at her with disbelief as she tried to calm her down. “Mom! Aua e te fai atu i luma o Aunty Elei!”
“What? E MONI! This boy should know better how to hide something like this from him! If he should’ve used the brain to call Sami then they would have FOUND poor Tiala already! And look at her NOW!” The Aunty spat out those words without hesitating. Before she looked at Elei and pointing at her. “You felt the same, didn't you? Tiala wouldn’t be in this state if your son had done it SOONER to call for help! Instead of selfishly going out to look for her by himself!”
Elei looked at her as she was about to say something back. But nothing came out. As if she was holding back to even defend Kanoa’s honor. So she slowly bowed her head down. Feeling that the Aunty had made a point.
Kanoa felt his heart was hurting to see his mother didn’t even say a word. As if she’s agreeing with what his aunty had said. He gripped his hand tightly before he walked back to the hallway and went to the kitchen. As he walked through the back door and ran off. Far away from the house. Far away from the village. He only ran to one place where he knew that he could be alone for just a moment.
To the cliff near the seaside.
Kanoa had kept running through the streets and through the road. Barefooted. Not caring of how much it hurts under the sole of his feet. And started to pull off the bandages from his face.
While making a run for it, he kept hearing those voices of Sami’s words. Echoing inside his mind. As it was haunting him. Including his Aunty’s words. Remembering how the two reacted about his selfish decision of having his little sister getting hurt.
He then remembers hearing the scream of Tiala when she looked at him in horror. Not forgetting her expression of fear.
Every word that spread inside his head had given his chest a heavy breathing. Every image in his head had causes his mind to ache in pain. Knowing that he can’t run any longer he started to slow down. Taking many heavy breaths from the running until he saw he had made it through the bushes and some trees.
He knows the path to the cliff. So he kept walking until he made it to the location. He saw the full moon was out just right above the cliff.
Kanoa had started to make his way there, breathing so heavily from running so much. And slowly made his way to the ledge. He stood there, trying to calm his bre
Kanoa lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Bandages wrapped around his cheek and nose. Bruises bloomed dark across his skin. The physical pain had dulled to a throb.
But his heart—
That hurt far worse.
Sami’s words replayed over and over in his mind. Careless. Selfish. A coward.
Deep down, Kanoa knew his older brother wasn’t wrong.
He had kept it from him.
He had hidden the truth about their sister’s kidnapping. About her being sold—treated like property—used by cartels. About the unspeakable things she endured.
If only he had let Rangi make the call.
If only he had swallowed his pride.
But he didn’t.
Because of guilt.
Because of shame.
Because of a promise he had once made to Sami—a promise shattered the day everything fell apart.
Now… Sami would never look at him the same way again.
He wouldn’t look at him like a brother.
Only a traitor.
A coward.
The weight of those thoughts pressed against his chest until breathing felt heavy. Tears slipped silently down his temples and into his hair as he shut his eyes.
And then the images came.
Tiala’s burned arm. The scars carved across her body. The bruises. The hollow look in her eyes.
And her voice.
“GET AWAY! DON’T TOUCH ME! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”
He had barely stepped into her hospital room when she screamed at him like he was the enemy.
Kanoa’s eyes snapped open.
He pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feet touching the cold floor.
That was when he noticed the faint light slipping through the crack of his door.
Voices.
Soft. Murmuring.
He stood slowly and moved toward it, peeking through the opening. The hallway was empty. The voices were coming from the living room.
He stepped out quietly and followed them.
In the living room, his mother sat with Serah and a few aunties. The air felt heavy. The women spoke in hushed tones, trying to soothe Elei’s trembling shoulders.
“Elei, soloi ou loimata. I’m sure your son didn’t mean to hurt Kanoa,” one aunty said gently, handing her a tissue.
Elei took it, pressing it to her nose as tears continued to fall. “He ALMOST killed him! Do I need another child of mine in that hospital?!”
Serah rubbed her shoulders softly. “Mama… I’ll talk to him after the meeting. Sami wouldn’t even DARE to do that to his own brother.”
It almost felt like he would.
“I know…” Elei whispered. “But it’s unbelievable how he reacted…”
“Well,” another aunty said from where she sat on the floor, fanning herself, “he has no right to physically hurt Kanoa. But his words? They are not wrong.”
A younger woman beside her looked shocked. “Mom! Aua e te fai atu i luma o Aunty Elei!”
“What? E MONI!” the aunty snapped. “This boy should know better than to hide something like this! If he had used his brain and called Sami, they would have FOUND poor Tiala already! And look at her NOW!”
Her finger pointed accusingly at Elei.
“You felt the same, didn’t you? Tiala wouldn’t be in this state if your son had called for help sooner! Instead of selfishly running around trying to fix it himself!”
Silence filled the room.
Elei looked up, lips parting slightly—
But no words came.
Slowly, she lowered her head.
As if she agreed.
Kanoa’s chest tightened painfully.
His own mother didn’t defend him.
His hands curled into fists.
He stepped back into the shadows of the hallway, then turned toward the kitchen. The back door creaked softly as he slipped outside.
And then he ran.
Far from the house.
Far from the whispers.
Far from the village.
There was only one place he could go.
The cliff by the sea.
He ran barefoot through dirt and gravel, not caring how the stones sliced into his soles. He ripped the bandages from his face, letting them fall behind him.
Sami’s voice echoed in his head.
You selfish, fucked-up bastard.
His aunty’s voice followed.
If he had used his brain—
Then Tiala’s scream cut through it all.
“GET AWAY!”
His breathing turned ragged. His chest burned. His thoughts tangled together until he couldn’t tell which voice was louder.
He slowed only when his lungs felt like they would collapse.
Bushes scraped against his arms as he pushed through familiar paths. He knew this trail. He had walked it countless times.
Finally, he reached the clearing.
The cliff stood ahead, bathed in silver.
The full moon hung high above, luminous and indifferent.
Kanoa stepped closer to the edge, the ocean roaring below. Waves crashed violently against the cliffside, the sound both brutal and strangely soothing.
He stood there, chest rising and falling heavily.
He lifted his face to the moonlight.
The salt wind whipped against his bruised skin.
He inhaled slowly through his nose.
Exhaled through parted lips.
Again.
And again.
Until the world quieted just enough—
For his memories to take him back.
Back to the night he searched for Tiala at this very spot.
athing before he looked up to the full moon.
Staring at its glorious light that was shining down to the waves of the ocean. Hitting against the wall of the cliff from the bottom. He could hear it splashing so roughly but yet sounded so soothingly against his ears. Giving him to take another few deep breaths and then slowly closed his eyes.
Inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his lips. Before his memories started to play back; to where he remembered when he was looking for Tiala at this very spot.
~3 Years Ago~
“Tia? Tiaaaaa! Ah! There you are! Been looking for you, little sis!”
Kanoa grinned as he spotted Tiala standing at the edge of the same cliff. The sunset painted the ocean in gold and fire, and she stood still, watching it disappear beyond the horizon.
“Mama’s making your favoriiiiite~ Oka! Hehehe! …Tia?”
She didn’t respond.
He noticed the way she rubbed her arm—an anxious habit she’d had since she was younger.
Something was wrong.
Kanoa stepped closer and stood beside her, the breeze tugging at their clothes. He tilted his head slightly to look at her face.
“Tiala? O le a le mea ua sesē?”
She exhaled slowly before turning to him. Nervousness flickered in her brown eyes.
“I-I’m scared, Noa…”
That caught him off guard.
“Scared? Of what?” he asked, brows furrowing. “You were the loudest one in the house when you said you were joining the Marines right after graduation.”
“Yeah, I know. I know I said that but…” She looked back at the ocean. “We’re leaving tomorrow and I feel so… so—”
“Sick? Nauseous? Like you’re gonna throw up after having a one-night stand?”
Her head whipped toward him.
“EW! NO!” she burst out, shoving him lightly. “That is GROSS, Noa! The first two, yes—but the last one? Seriously? You’re disgusting!”
He laughed loudly, satisfied with himself.
“Hahaha! Sorry! I couldn’t help it! But hey—you’re smiling now. So you’re disgusting too.”
“Oh, whatever!”
They both laughed, the sound blending with the wind and crashing waves. For a moment, everything felt light again.
But as their laughter faded, Tiala hugged herself, staring back at the setting sun.
“I really am scared, Kanoa,” she admitted quietly. “Of what I’m signing up for. I mean… I wanted to do this. To make up for how I’ve been acting ever since Hōne passed. I was such a jerk. And I don’t want to disappoint him either.”
Her voice softened.
“So I HAVE to do this. I just… I have to.”
She took a steadying breath, then looked at him again. This time, there was vulnerability in her expression. Hope. The kind only a younger sibling gives.
“Do you think I’ll live that long?”
The question hit him harder than he expected.
Kanoa wasn’t the wise one like Hōne had been. He wasn’t steady like Rangi. He didn’t have the right words for things like this.
He knew what the Marines meant.
Sacrifice.
Risk.
Possibly death.
And that was the very thing he never wanted her to face.
But he didn’t let any of that show.
Instead, he smiled gently and placed a hand on her back, rubbing it comfortingly.
“As long as I’m around,” he said softly, “you’ll live the FULLEST until the end.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Promise?”
He held her gaze.
“I promise, Tia.”
~Presence~
Tears streamed steadily down Kanoa’s face as he lifted his eyes toward the moon.
His chest felt hollow and unbearably tight at the same time. His fist twisted into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it over his heart as if he could squeeze the ache out of it.
“I… I-I am SO sorry, Tia… I am so, so, so, so SORRY…”
His voice broke apart into sobs. His teeth clenched. His shoulders trembled with anger—at himself more than anyone else.
“I broke our promise…” he whispered hoarsely. “I should’ve called our brother. I should’ve asked for help. But I was such a fucking coward… thinking I could fix everything on my own.”
The words tasted bitter.
He shut his eyes tightly, and the burn behind them only grew worse. A painful lump swelled in his throat as he forced himself to swallow it down.
Then—
The ocean roared.
The crashing waves below cut through his thoughts. He opened his eyes and stepped closer to the edge, peering down.
The sea churned violently against the base of the cliff, white foam bursting against dark stone before disappearing back into the black water. The rhythm of it was relentless. Powerful. Consuming.
The sound washed over him.
For a moment, his body felt strangely light. His muscles loosened. The noise drowned out the voices in his head—Sami’s rage, his aunt’s accusation, Tiala’s scream.
Silence, finally.
And then a thought surfaced.
A fucking coward who doesn’t deserve to live in this world…
His breathing slowed.
The wind tugged at his shirt, whipping it against his bruised skin. The salt air stung his face.
He stared down at the violent ocean below, and the idea began to settle into him like something inevitable.
Maybe this was the only way to make it right.
Maybe this was how he could stop being the burden.
Maybe this was how he could pay for breaking his promise.
His toes edged closer to the drop.
But even as the thought tried to take root—
His heart pounded harder.
Not peaceful.
Not calm.
Afraid.
Because beneath the guilt, beneath the shame—
There was still something fighting to breathe.
“It’ll be better… if you just grant Sami’s wish and die tonight…”
The thought didn’t sound like his own voice anymore.
It sounded colder.
Detached.
Kanoa stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
Until his toes hovered at the very edge of the cliff.
The wind howled around him, tugging at his clothes as if trying to pull him back—or push him forward. He couldn’t tell which.
“For the sake of your family… your sister… for that broken promise you made…”
His breathing turned shallow. Each inhale felt like it scraped his lungs raw. His heart pounded violently against his ribs, not calm—not at peace—but terrified.
He looked down.
The ocean below raged in the darkness, waves smashing against stone with brutal force. There was nothing gentle about it. Nothing welcoming.
Still, his mind twisted it.
Maybe this would make things right.
Maybe this would stop the shame.
“DIE…”
The word echoed again, louder this time.
Kanoa lifted his gaze to the moon.
It hung high above him, distant and indifferent. Its light washed over his bruised face, illuminating the tear tracks on his skin.
For a fleeting second, his chest didn’t feel as tight.
Not because he was at peace—
But because his mind was beginning to shut down from the weight of it all.
“JUMP…”
He closed his eyes.
Memories flickered through the darkness behind his lids—his brothers wrestling in the yard, his mother calling them in for dinner, his father’s steady hand on his shoulder.
Tiala laughing.
Tiala smiling.
Tiala before everything broke.
“Goodbye, Tia…” His voice trembled. “Tell Hōne… tell him I tried. I’ll see you on the other side, little sis…”
His foot shifted forward.
But his body hesitated.
Because even now—
Even standing at the edge—
Some part of him was still fighting to stay.
He slowly lifted one foot up and was about to take his final step on the edge of the cliff. Having those moment of peace at-
“STOP!”
The word cracked through the night like thunder.
Kanoa gasped sharply and stumbled backward from the ledge, nearly losing his footing on the loose gravel. His heart slammed violently against his ribs as he spun around.
No one.
The cliff was empty.
The wind swept across the grass. The ocean roared below. The moon remained high and silent.
His breathing grew uneven.
“H-Hello?” His voice wavered despite his attempt to sound firm. “Who’s there? Fa’aali atu oe lava!”
Only the wind answered.
Then—
“Kanoa…”
A whisper.
Soft.
Close.
Too close.
His blood ran cold.
He turned again, scanning the shadows near the trees, the bushes, the path he had run through.
Nothing.
Not a single soul.
He swallowed hard.
His mind raced. Was he imagining it? Had the guilt finally broken him?
“Kanoa… don’t…”
The whisper drifted through the air again, gentler this time—but filled with urgency.
A chill crept down his spine.
“O-Okay, this isn’t funny!” he shouted into the darkness. “I know you’re p-pranking me! You know I don’t mess with this ghost shit!”
His voice cracked at the end.
The wind shifted.
And suddenly—
The air behind him changed.
Not colder.
Warmer.
Like someone standing close.
Too close.
A soft breeze brushed against Kanoa’s back.
Not cold.
Warm.
Then—
Arms.
He felt them wrap around him from behind.
He tensed, ready to wrench himself free—
But the world shifted.
The crashing waves below stretched into a long, echoing hush. Leaves tore from branches and drifted in slow motion through the silver air. Even the wind seemed to move like it was pushing through water.
“What the—”
“Kanoa.”
He froze.
That voice.
Familiar. Steady. Loved.
“Lo’u uso laitiiti pele… don’t do this. Our family needs you more than ever.”
“H… Hōne?”
Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. His heart tightened painfully—grief and relief colliding at once.
“Tiala needs you… don’t ever leave her astray like this. E le o sau sesē lea.”
“I—I’m sorry,” Kanoa choked. “I should’ve been better. I should’ve—”
“Sssh.” The voice softened. “You are in pain. I can feel it, little brother. But you are STRONGER than you think. Believe me.”
Kanoa felt weight against his right shoulder, as if Hōne had rested his head there the way he used to after long days. The embrace was steady. Certain.
“You think everything you’ve done is your fault. But you kept searching for her. You didn’t stop. You brought her back HOME.”
“But she—” His voice cracked. “She came back broken because of me. And those people I killed—”
“Yes.” The reply was calm, not condemning. “There were other ways. And you know that. You regret it. That matters. Broken things CAN be fixed, Kanoa. But only if they’re still here.”
A pause.
“You need faith. Faith in the Lord, just as Mama and Papa taught us.”
Kanoa shook his head weakly. “I don’t know if I have any faith left… Everything is ruined because of me. I don’t think Sami or Tiala will forgive me. Not even our Lord would.”
“Kanoa…” The voice grew firmer, but never harsh. “The Lord is always forgiving. And if He forgives, hearts can soften too. Give them time. Let them heal. Our family will be whole again.”
A breath against his ear.
“With you in it.”
“...Are you sure?” Kanoa whispered. “After everything I’ve done?”
“Have I ever wronged you?”
Through tears, a small smile broke through.
“Never.”
He couldn’t see him.
But he could feel the smile.
The embrace tightened gently.
“Always remember—I’m right here. With you. With all of them. You have always made our family proud, Noa.”
A final whisper brushed across his ear.
“And so am I.”
The world began to move again.
The ocean reclaimed its roar. The leaves fell at normal speed. The wind rushed past him.
The warmth faded.
No.
“Hōne!”
Kanoa spun around, reaching for him—
But there was no one there.
Only the cliff.
Only the moon hanging high above.
Only the endless ocean below.
“Hōne…” he breathed, the name dissolving into the night.
And for the first time since he had stepped onto that ledge—
He wasn’t standing at the edge anymore.
He was standing on solid ground.
He was just standing there in silence. Trying to process what just happened. Until he felt another presence behind him.
“Kanoa?” A female voice called out, trembling with concern.
He turned to see his sister-in-law. “Serah?”
Serah’s face was etched with worry as she took cautious steps toward him. “Kanoa, your mother was worried sick when she saw you weren’t in your room! What are you—”
Her words caught in her throat. She froze as she saw him: tear-stained cheeks, body tense, standing dangerously close to the ledge. Her hand flew to her mouth in shock. “Noa… were… were you going to—”
The sight of Serah’s horror hit Kanoa like a physical blow. Reality slammed into him. His heart constricted, and the weight of what he had almost done crushed him. He sank to his knees, hugging himself tightly, sobbing uncontrollably. The memory of Hōne’s warning, the family he had almost abandoned—it all came rushing back.
“NOA!” Serah cried, her voice sharp with fear and relief. She rushed forward, kneeling beside him, wrapping her arms gently around his trembling body. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “Noa! What were you thinking?! Ending yourself like that!”
What was he thinking?
Kanoa’s sobs shook his entire body. He clung to her, fingers digging into her clothing, shaking, choking out apologies. “I-I’m sorry… I’m SORRY… I-I just—I was—Aaaaaaah!” He screamed, grief and regret pouring out uncontrollably, a storm of emotion he had tried to hold inside for so long.
Serah’s heart ached at the sight of him broken like this. She gently eased him back slightly, cupping his face in her hands. Her eyes, brimming with tears, met his. She wanted to scold him, to make him understand how close he had come—but she softened her expression.
“Kanoa…” she whispered, voice gentle but firm. “Let’s go back home, okay? We’ll talk there.”
She lifted a trembling thumb to wipe the wet tracks from his cheeks, careful not to add shame to his sorrow. The weight of her concern, her presence, anchored him. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to breathe.
Kanoa sniffed and slowly nodded, apologizing to her again. He rose to his feet, letting Serah take his hand to guide him. Together, they walked back home in silence—neither spoke a word.
Serah glanced back frequently, checking on him. His exhaustion was clear, his eyes red and puffy. Seeing him like this hurt her deeply.
He had always been the sunshine of the family—making everyone laugh, telling jokes, lifting spirits even on bad days. Serah had always loved Kanoa’s bright personality; it reminded her of someone she once knew.
Soon, they reached their home. Flashlights bobbed across the yard as people searched for him.
“Come on, Noa. Let’s tell them you’re here,” Serah said. She stepped forward—but Kanoa didn’t move. Confused, she looked at him. “Noa?”
He kept his gaze on the ground for a moment, then lifted his head to look at her, voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t tell them, Serah…”
“What?”
“Please… don’t tell them what you saw. What you witnessed… my carelessness.”
“Kanoa… they have to know. They need to know that you were hurt so badly. Sami will—”
“NO!” He suddenly raised his voice, stepping forward to grasp both her hands. His eyes were desperate, pleading. “Please, Serah. No one needs to know. They can’t. I’ve caused enough trouble already. I want them to focus on caring for Tiala.”
Serah stared at him, stunned by his request. He was asking her to keep something so serious a secret. “Kanoa… I… I can’t do that. It will eat away at you if you keep it hidden!”
“I-I know… I know…” His hands shook as he held hers, and he avoided her eyes.
Serah felt the trembling in his hands, as if he were standing in a bitter winter wind. She may not know him fully, but she could see his sincerity—his determination to protect his family, even at his own expense.
The older brother wanted the family’s attention on Tiala’s well-being. Serah understood. She admired his devotion, and a sigh escaped her lips in reluctant defeat.
“Alright,” she said softly, “I won’t tell anyone about this. But you promise me you’ll tell them someday—when it gets too heavy for you to bear alone. I’ll be there to support you, okay?”
Kanoa looked at her, eyes wide with surprise, then nodded quickly.
After a few minutes to settle, they continued walking home, Serah letting everyone know she had found the lost boy.
When Elei heard, she ran to embrace her son, scolding him gently as she held him. Kanoa smiled and chuckled softly, apologizing to his mother.
Serah watched the scene with a faint smile, but her expression soon darkened as she looked at Kanoa.
How could he smile like that… after everything that had happened?
She remained uneasy about the secret he had asked her to keep.
This wouldn’t be easy. And Serah had no doubt that it wouldn’t end well.
Kanoa stood quietly in the doorway, feeling the warmth of the house around him, the soft murmurs of his family settling back into evening routines. He clutched Serah’s hand for a moment longer, letting the steady pressure remind him that he wasn’t alone. Outside, the moon still cast its silver light over the village, a silent witness to the night’s turmoil and the choices yet to come. He knew the road ahead would be hard—that the guilt, the fear, and the secrets would not disappear overnight—but for the first time since everything had begun, he felt the faint stirrings of hope. He would face it. For Tiala. For his family. And for the promise he had almost forgotten, but would never abandon again.
Kanoa took a slow, steady breath, letting the night settle around him, and whispered to himself, “I’ll make it right… I have to.”
THE END