What is happiness?
When one asks that question, the answer varies depending on the person because everyone has a different meaning of happiness. But one thing everyone could agree on.
That was... everyone would protect their happiness.
They’d protect it with all their might, quick on their feet once someone posed a threat to it.
At least, that was what Atlas thought he would do.
But here he was, frozen on his feet as he stared at Lola lying on her stomach. Her back trembled, gasping for air as blood oozed from the side of her neck.
At the same time, the door flew open.
"First Brother!" Hugo’s voice thundered as he rushed in, only to freeze when he saw Atlas and then... Lola just a few steps away. "Sis!"
Without thinking twice, Hugo glided on his knees and pressed a hand on Lola’s wound. His eyes shook, seeing blood trickle from her mouth. Lola was still conscious, still fighting, enough to clasp Hugo’s wrist.
Following Hugo, Allen, Slater, Baby, and a few others arrived in a hurry. They had heard a gun go off and the loud shattering of glass. The moment they came in, the first thing they noticed was the shattered window, then Atlas’s frozen figure, before Lola and Hugo.
"Madam —" Allen’s breath hitched while Slater’s complexion paled. "Sis..."
"At..." Meanwhile, even when Lola was choking, she exerted the remaining strength she could to squeeze Hugo’s wrist. Her eyes shook, gasping and choking at the same time.
"At... las."
As soon as that reached Hugo’s ears, his already panicked eyes widened in disbelief. When his gaze finally met hers, all he saw was the worry in Lola’s eyes. It was as if she was asking him to go to Atlas first, to just let her be right now, and just go to Atlas.
Not that she didn’t know she was shot and dying, but rather, she knew she was shot right before her husband.
Hugo’s mouth quivered as the corners of his eyes reddened, unable to blink as she looked him straight in the eyes. When her eyes finally lowered, Hugo snapped out of his shock as he tried harder to stop her bleeding.
"No, no, no..." he panicked. "Sis! Wait — sis!"
"What are you still doing?!" Slater yelled, hysterical as he ran to Lola’s other side. "She’s bleeding!!!"
Allen, Baby, and everyone else already moved, panicking, acting on instinct. Some rushed out to catch the person who had opened fire in their territory, and a few rushed in to shield Hugo as he carried Lola.
It was chaos.
Yet, even when everyone moved and was quick on their feet, Atlas stayed rooted in the same spot. His eyes remained on the blood on the floor.
"Sir!" Allen jumped in front of him. "Sir!"
He was yelling, screaming right in front of him. But alas, his voice sounded distant every time.
Atlas’s wide eyes then followed the smudge on the floor, and then the trail of drops toward the door. There were more people in the room, but everyone around him was a blur.
When his gaze landed on the entrance, a quiet voice escaped him. "Lo..."
"Sir —" Allen finally grabbed Atlas’s shoulders and shook him, forcing his boss to look him in the eye. But the moment they locked eyes, Allen’s face twisted. His eyes mirrored the face of a man who was just in utter shock, as if everything had yet registered in his mind.
Or rather, if Allen were going to base it on Atlas’s personality, it looked like his boss had just broken.
For someone as brilliant as Atlas, who analyzed things differently but efficiently... it looked like a machine finally glitching.
"Sir," Allen breathed out, his grip on Atlas’s shoulder tightening. "Please, get a hold of yourself."
*
*
*
So, what is happiness?
The answer varied depending on who was answering that question. But if someone asked Atlas what it was, there was just one answer to that.
Gone.
It was gone.
She was gone.
And he did nothing to stop it. He didn’t rush to her to stop her bleeding. He didn’t even carry her to the infirmary or scream for help as one would expect from a husband who had witnessed his wife being shot fatally.
Even when she was declared dead, he didn’t even see her body for the last time.
If anything, Atlas just... arranged everything for her funeral and planned to go back to work right after.
Sniffles carried over in the air as everyone mourned the death of someone. The sky thundered as gray clouds smothered it with sadness. People lined up and surrounded the grave where Lola would be. The cries grew louder as they watched her coffin being lowered into the ground.
"Mommy..." Chacha sniffled, wiping her eyes between her sniffles. "My mommy..."
Standing beside her was Second, rubbing his sister’s back. But even when he tried his best to keep a strong front, his tears and snot mixed on his face.
"..." Kneeling beside the twins was Kiara, keeping her lips pressed into a thin line while holding back her tears.
Atlas quietly veered his eyes from the gravestone that would be used for Lola’s resting place. Just now, he was checking if the engraved letters were even correct or if there was anything wrong with them. But after hearing his children’s sniffles, he realized they were there.
When his eyes landed on his children, his lips parted. His hand reached out to them, but it barely moved before he retracted it.
Why... he wondered to himself, looking away as he stared at the people lowering her coffin.
Why... don’t I feel anything?
As soon as the question hovered in his head, the sky thundered once more before a droplet of rain landed on his cheek. Umbrellas immediately spread one after another, shielding people from the pouring rain.
Everyone held umbrellas... except Atlas.
In this crowd, no one went to him and offered an umbrella. Instead, they let him get drenched in the rain.
Why?
Because they knew this was probably the only chance he could get to cry without anyone knowing. They hoped, deep in their hearts, that he would cry. That he’d let it all out.
Sadly, even with so much rain, Atlas didn’t. He just stood there under the pouring rain, repeating one thought:
Let this be just a horrible dream.
Hence, he could not cry because the moment he let one single tear out, he had to accept this was reality. He couldn’t do that.
Atlas shouldn’t have asked Haji how he would survive without her. That question... he should’ve asked himself.
Because now, that same question awaits him.
How does he plan to live without her?