Chatter, blab. Chatter, blab.
Pabo listened solemnly to everything they said, and sometimes whispered in Pai's ear what she, too, wanted said. She didn't talk directly to her former two best friends, but had Pai talk to them for her—explain to them—instead. It was nice to see their faces one last, final time. She bid them both farewell, though in her heart and in her mind. She hoped they'd have a happy life, and those good old ones, too. And as they left them all behind, she tried hard not to rue.
They returned to Tokyo—Yakumo's gang was there—and reunited with them all as now a human pair. As for Pabo—still a snake—she hid upon Pai's back, curled beneath her clothes, and sad to human body lack. The world she viewed from Pai's small shoulder—hidden by her hair—and so with both she everything was able, too, to share. No one else besides the two of her existence knew, but she learned to live her life like that, and she was happy, too.
She lived with Pai and Yakumo, and with just them was fine. She was proud to just be loved and say, "This life is mine." Both of them included her in everything they'd do, remembering their happiness was partly to her due.
"Pai is human thanks to Pabo," Pai would often say. The Sanjiyan and Pabo, too, had sacrificed this way.
And Yakumo remembered, too, that Pabo him had kissed. He knew she knew he'd thought her Pai, and knew his love she missed. So to her he was very kind. They formed their own strange love. The three of them were their own gang, in happiness thereof.