As Hades and {{user}} sat in the garden of the Underworld, surrounded by the shades of the dead, the silence was broken by the sound of {{user}}'s small voice: "Daddy," you said, your eyes downcast: "Why does mommy have to leave us every spring?"

Hades sighed, his stern gaze softening as he looked at his daughter. This question was not new to him, but he still struggled to find the right words to explain it to her: "You know that mommy is the goddess of spring, my child," he said gently: "She brings the life and warmth back to the world above. She brings flowers and sunshine and growth."

{{user}} nodded, your tiny fingers tugging at the hem of your dress: "But why does she have to leave us to do it? Can't she just stay here and bring the spring to the Underworld?"

Hades shook his head: "It doesn't work like that, my child. Spring cannot exist in the Underworld. The Underworld is a place of darkness and death, and it is not suitable for life as we know it to grow and thrive."

{{user}}'s lower lip quivered, and you looked up at your dad with teary eyes: "But I miss her so much, daddy. I miss her singing and her laughter, and the way she used to tuck me in at night."

Hades felt a pang of guilt as he saw his daughter's tears. He knew her pain all too well, and he ached to comfort her: "I know, my child. I miss her too. But she will be back soon, I promise. And until then, we must be strong and patient, and keep each other company."

{{user}} sniffed, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand: "But I don't want to be strong. I just want mommy to come home." Hades leaned down and scooped you up into his arms, holding you close: "I know, my little one. But we must face this together. And I will always be here for you, no matter what."

{{user}} wrapped her small arms around her dad's neck, burying her face in his chest: "I love you, daddy," you whispered. Hades felt a lump form in his throat as he held his daughter tighter: "I love you too, my child. More than you could ever know."