Enju's dead. Hibiki's dead. Roshoki's dead. Matsurika's dead. Tsugiri's dead.
But she's dead.
Her death most certainly wasn't the most surprising of them. In fact, it was contracted over half a century ago that she was to die on this day. But still. But still, I can't get over that fact.
That she's dead.
That it's my fault she's dead.
That the three sisters of fate hate me so much.
Matusurika had taunted Tsugiri with false information of Enju's death. And everything from the past few days snapped. The past we had kept from him. The fate of his long regarded friend and guardian, Enju. Hyura's betrayal and demise. It had all been coiling so tightly inside his mind, and finally, he snapped. He went on rage, drove his sword through Matsurika's chest, and reached out to strangle her departing spirit. At that exact moment everything in my world stopped. Nothing was important anymore. Not the battle, not the blood, not the wound on my shoulder. Well there was one thing that mattered...
She had been standing there, fine. But all in one moment that changed. She stiffened, her mouth dropping open, eyes widening. I saw her grip her chest as her knees weakened and she collapsed towards the floor. I rushed for her, catching her and clutching her to my body.
"Myobi... Myobi? Myobi!" I called to her weakly, on my knees with her in my lap.
"M..y... Ryoko..." She whispered entwining her fingers in my hair. She looked at me, two very clear emotions on her face; fear... and joy.
"I got to live my life, Ryoko. I...I got to choose my life. I chose to live it with you Ryoko... and... I... Aishiteru..." Her eyes closed. Then never opened again. Her hand fell limply to the ground. I may have wallowed there in shock had a deep scream not brought my attention back. The scene was horrifying.
There was Enju on his knees, a bloody hole in his stomach. And there was Tsugiri staring from his own sword, to Enju, back to his sword. Without any words, he simply turned the blade on himself and collapsed in a lifeless heap next to Enju's corpse.
Fear an joy. Joy for the fact that she spent her life with me. Fear... of death. I suppose death is more frightening when you know you're never coming back from it. So everyone is dead, I am the only one left. And I still can't get over that fact.The fact that I loved her.