The End

Grevil tossed his eyes towards the sky, hands in his pockets and shook his head slowly. "What an unfortunate thing to have brought me here." He murmured as his gaze flicked over the remains of the house. He normally wasn't called to do anything international but this was a unique case, because it involved his sister.

Idly he kicked at the rubble, in disorganized piles at his feet. This had once been his sister's home, hers and that runt's. It was hard to believe looking at the wreckage that this had ever been a home. He wasn't sure why he had come, he hadn't even been asked to identify the corpse, his sister's corpse. She'd been the only one in the house when it had collapsed, destroyed by the storm that finally settled its raging, leaving bright, blue skies all across Japan as if it had never happened.

Grevil's fist clenched, he knew it wouldn't have made a difference really, but Kujo should have been there, that runt, never should have left his sister. He may have been a hard boy for Grevil to like, but at least he had thought Kujo would always care for and be around for Victorique.

He turned abruptly away from the rubble. There was nothing left for him here. It would be better for him to go to the hospital and check on that runt.


Grevil stared down at the runt, his fists clenched tightly. Victorique was dead, and this stupid boy had to get himself knocked into a coma from a car crash, even though the driver had hardly been hurt by the accident at all. He hated that Kujo hadn't been there for Victorique. It wouldn't have changed anything. She would still be dead, but she wouldn't have died alone. Grevil had been sure that once Kujo was in her life, that she wouldn't have to be alone again as she had been forced to be by their father for all those long, and surely terrible years.

Unable to keep his feet and his anger any longer, Grevil collapsed into the chair next to Kujo's bed. This whole situation just made him feel so powerless. He hadn't felt so helpless since before the war. Back when their father had been alive.

Grevil stared at Kujo's prone form, allowing the faint beeping of the heart monitor wash over everything. There wasn't anything else he could do for the moment, except hope that Kujo would wake. He didn't know what he would say, but he felt everything would somehow be better, if only the runt would just wake up.

His desire that Kujo just wake up probably meant that he was in denial, but that hardly seemed to matter as the heart monitor, simply beat on and on. He began to count the beats.

One...two...three...w

The fourth beat never came. Grevil's head jerked up in a sort of terror. Kujo couldn't die now too. His eyes scanned frantically over Kujo's body.

Still the silence hung in the room.

Grevil leapt to his feet with a great scraping of the chair. "Nurse!" He shouted, loudly, probably obnoxiously. If there was some chance that he could be revived... "Nurse!" He yelled again.

He raced to the door, figuring his shouts would be better heard from the doorway. But he didn't have to call anymore. As he was about to run out scream, the door swung open and a herd of white clothed figures swarmed into the room.

Frantic measures were made to bring the runt back, but eventually the doctor that had rushed in stepped away from the body, and shook his head. "There's nothing we can do." He stated, simply, calmly, quietly. The tone instilling a sort of peace in Grevil, but also making him want to tear the doctor's hair out, for not being able to do more.

He slumped back into the chair that he'd been watching Kujo from before. Nothing seemed to matter now, his whole family was dead. His father, sister, even his brother-in-law.

The world suddenly felt extremely empty. For the first time that he could remember, Grevil just wanted to cry.


And that my reader's is how I feel you could fulfill the promise of their hearts never being separated but still hold to the prophesy that they would die apart, because that is technically what the specific wording was. Anyways, I was planning on this being the ending of this piece, but if a lot of people were to beg, wanting to read about a heartbroken and lonesome Blois, I might be convinced to add more. But either way, don't be afraid to give me your opinions.