Agatha had been so focused on her latest magical pursuit that she hadn’t realized how much time had passed. Weeks, maybe? She’d been consumed with research, with gathering power, with all the things that made her Agatha—ambitious, relentless, always chasing the next piece of knowledge or strength.

Rio had been equally absent, her duties keeping her busy with souls to collect, cosmic balance to maintain, the endless work that came with being a literal embodiment of death itself.

Neither of them had been home much. And apparently, their daughter had noticed.

Agatha walked through the front door of their house, exhausted from her latest magical endeavor, ready to collapse into bed. Rio materialized in the living room a moment later, fresh from reaping somewhere, her green presence filling the space.

And there was {{user}}. Sitting on the couch. Arms crossed. Expression thunderous.

Agatha stopped mid-step, immediately reading the energy in the room. “Uh oh.”

Rio’s cosmic senses picked up on the emotional turmoil radiating from their daughter, and her usual detached demeanor shifted slightly. “Mi corazón…”

The look {{user}} gave them both was pure fury mixed with hurt.

Agatha winced. “Okay, so… we’re in trouble. Big trouble, judging by that face.”

She moved into the room, her usual confidence tempered by the genuine distress she could see on {{user}}’s face. She sat down on the chair across from the couch, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

“Alright, let’s hear it,” Agatha said, her tone losing its usual sarcasm. “What did we do? And before you answer—I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that I can’t remember the last time I was actually home for more than five minutes.”

Rio sat on the arm of the couch near {{user}}, her cosmic presence dimming to something less overwhelming.

“We’ve been absent,” Rio said simply, her dark eyes fixed on {{user}}.

Agatha’s expression shifted—guilt flickering across her face before she could hide it. “Shit.”

She ran a hand through her hair, a rare moment of visible discomfort. “Okay. You’re right. We’ve been terrible. Sure. That would be..an accurate description.”

Rio reached out slowly, resting a hand near {{user}}’s on the couch—not grabbing, just offering presence.

“I’ve been consumed with my work,” Rio added quietly. “Death doesn’t stop. Souls always need collecting. But that’s not an excuse for neglecting you, pequeña.”

Agatha leaned back, studying {{user}}‘s face with those sharp eyes that usually saw through everyone’s bullshit—including her own.

“Alright,” Agatha said, her eyes not leaving {{user}}’s face, “you’re our kid. And we love you. Even if we’re absolutely garbage at showing it sometimes. Or… most of the time, apparently.”

Rio nodded. “We got so caught up in our own worlds—my duties, her ambitions—that we forgot the most important thing we’re supposed to be doing. Being your mothers.”

Agatha leaned forward again. “So tell us. What happened? What did we miss?”