Battler shielded his eyes from the sunlight. At long last – the end of the tunnel. And the last of the gold. They’d made it just in time, too. He’d undershot how long it’d take them before the island exploded. Beatrice got herself a scratch. But she didn’t complain.

He dropped the four bars on top of the little stack he’d formed in the shade.

“We’ll leave it here.” He turned to her. “Nobody found this entrance after all these years, and I have no reason to start thinking they’ll manage to do it now. When the heat dies down, we’ll come get it. Alright?”

The witch nodded.

“…Still thinking about Maria, aren’t you?” he asked, walking over to her.

“No.”

“Don’t lie.” His eyelids dropped ever so slightly. “Not here. Not now. Not to me.”

She refused to look him in the eye. “What do you wish of me? To say that I’m regretful? That I hate you? That I wish you’d never been born? That I’d never been born? Should I say that this will haunt me until the moment I die? What? What do you want me to say, Battler?”

“If living’s the problem—”

She laughed. Her throat raspy. Her eyes all but glazed over. “You know… what the worst part in all of this is?”

Battler shrugged. “Enlighten me.”

“I really want to believe you. That you’re some kind of mythical monster. That you’re larger than life. That you’re just so empty that the only thing you understand is the need to hurt and destroy and be what you feel you do best – I really do want to believe all that. But I can’t. I can’t do that, B-Battler…”

She dropped to her knees. “Th—That boy f-from six y-years ago… He wouldn’t have… done something… like this…!” She buried her head in her hands. “What… have we done? What have we done?! We… We killed them—them all…! A—And for—for what? For wh-what…?!”

Battler slid his hands in his pocket. “Well, now—”

“No!” She shrieked. “No! Stop that! Stop—Stop talking like that! Stop—Stop it! That isn’t you! That CAN’T be you…! Somewhere deep down, I KNOW it hurts, and I need to know th—that! B-Because… Because a-at least then, I—I can believe th—that you don’t… have t-to be l-like this…!”

He sighed. “…Man. Man, man, man.” He scraped his left shoe against the ground, peering off into the distant sunlight. “You’ve really gone and made this cliché, you know. The old ‘woman who dates a bad boy, thinking she can change him’ is pretty worn out, even fo—”

“You sent me LETTERS! F—For six years! Th—That person—”

“I told you what you wanted to hear. And in return, you told me what I needed to know. It’s as simple as that.”

“No!”

“Yes. You can refuse it as much as you want, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I told you. We’re not the same. You were going to kill them, with or without me. The moment you told me about the plan, I knew you’d break. You’re not a witch. Only human. And you loved them. Some of them. Whatever the actual number, it was more than you could afford to give. That’s what helped you kill. Me? I’m still the same as I’ve always been. I told you. I warned you so many times. You could’ve stopped me at any point. You didn’t. Because you were imagining this moment, where I look to the sunrise and cry. But I can’t. I won’t.”

She gritted her teeth, trying desperately to stop the sobs. “You really… don’t love… anyone?”

“No. Not a single person.”

His eyes reflected in hers.

She got to her feet.

He knew.

She didn’t care that he did.

Two steps, and she’d already closed the distance. She wrapped her arms around him. And she did not stop.

He gave in to gravity.

Another step. And they’d reached the edge of the dock.

Another. And they went over.

In a mere instant, his lungs filled with water. Vision grew blurry and dark. Even so, when he looked down, he saw the faint outlines of her face. Her hair. Her eyes. Her mouth. He heard her screaming at him. Chocking with every syllable. She didn’t care. She held him even tighter. She would drag him to the very bottom of the ocean, if that’s what it took.

He smiled.

She hated that she could see it so clearly, his teeth glistening through the tainted green haze.

She dug her nails into him.

He put the palm of his hand on her cheek.

She dug the nails so deep she tore through the fabric of his shirt.

Deeper…

They would fall even deeper…

And darker…

He returned the gesture, wrapping himself around her.

This would, she knew, be her punishment.

She was, he knew, his salvation.

And together—

Together—

Battler opens his eyes.

He’s in the guesthouse. Alone. The grandfather clock echoes in his ears. He smells blood. Even without a speck of it being there.

He gasps for breath. The daydream was one he should’ve gotten accustomed to, after all those years. The ending, however, always leaves him shaken.

He gets up from his armchair.

It’s almost time. He can feel it.

He looks out the window.

The guesthouse stands surrounded by a frozen lake, stretching as far as the eye could see, stopping only to touch the ominous bloodshot sky. This is the home he’d come to know for so long. Ever since… the other ‘him’ had taken over.

But it’s almost time. He can feel it.

The other ‘him’ must be feeling it too.

Battler smiles.

He can make out a silhouette stumbling in the distance.

Almost time.

Almost time.