Marama had never really been worried about either of her older brothers before. They both seemed like they always had things so together. Manaia had his music and his friends; Rāwhiti had Quidditch and Emery. It was easy - they were both on their paths, and Marama was on hers. Nothing to worry about. But this year had changed everything. Rāwhiti had been spiraling all year, and the last Quidditch match had felt like the final straw. Something was really, really wrong with her brother, and he had been avoiding her and everybody else for months now. It was a strange kind of helplessness, being so far away from being able to do anything for one of the most important people in her life.
He couldn't avoid them at graduation at least, and Marama had given Manaia a meaningful look as she took a seat with him. They had been trading letters, but to Marama's dismay her older brother seemed just as lost as she was. There wasn't anything they could do, at the end of the day. Rāwhiti had lost his dream, and they couldn't give it back to him. All they could do was be there, and try to find something - anything - that they could do for him. She listened to the speeches, smiling slightly at Marnie's speech. As frustrating as Milo could be, Marama had always thought his sister seemed like a fun person. She clapped politely for the people crossing the stage, one eye on her brother the whole time. And then Rāwhiti was called, and Marama applauded as loudly as she could, hoping the support would do something for her brother. But he looked terrifyingly sad as he crossed the stage, none of the usual energy and joy she knew from him. He didn't even look up at them, and Marama couldn't help the tears she felt pricking at her eyes as he resumed his seat. She was helpless, and it terrified her.