The light faded.
What remained of Reina lay crumpled against the asphalt, her body a ruin of blood and scorched fabric.
Her right arm was gone.
Her right leg. The entire right side of her torso had been carved away by the light, leaving behind a wound that no amount of regeneration could close.
Her burnt ginger hair was plastered to her skull with blood and sweat and the gray dust of pulverized concrete. Her gold eyes were open, fixed on the sky above, tracking clouds that she couldn't quite see.
Black Scene.
The sword clattered from Hoshimi's grip.
He didn't remember dropping it. Didn't remember crawling across the broken asphalt with his shattered arm dragging uselessly behind him, his useless leg scraping against the debris, his whole body screaming with every movement.
But he was moving. Crawling. Dragging himself toward her with his one working arm, his fingers clawing at the cracked pavement, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps that sounded almost like sobs.
"No, no, no, no, no, please, please."
The word fell from his lips like a prayer. His vision blurred. Not from pain. Not from exhaustion. From something else. Something that burned behind his eyes and tightened his throat and made his chest feel like it was caving in on itself.
"Miss Reina, please , I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't-I didn't mean to-"
He reached her.
His hand found her face.
His fingers pressed against her cheek, her jaw, the familiar lines of a face he'd known his entire life. Her skin was cold. Too cold.
The blood that coated his palm was hers, all of it, pouring from the wound where half her body had been.
"Please…look at me, look. "
Her gold eyes shifted. Found his face. Focused on him with an effort that seemed to cost her everything she had left.
"Hoshimi."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Scraped raw. But it was her voice. Still the voice that had woken him every morning, that had teased him and trained him.
"Mom, I'm sorry, please, don't do this to me!"
His cheeks flushed red.
Tears welled up.
Ugly.
Raw, heaving sobs that tore from his chest with a violence that surprised him, that shook his entire body, that made his lungs burn and his throat ache.
Black Scene.
His face contorted. His mouth opened, but the sounds that came out weren't words.
They were just noise. Just pain.
"I'm sorry, please I didn't..I didn't mean to do this."
Her remaining hand rose.
The movement was slow, agonizing, her fingers trembling with the effort. They found his cheek. Pressed against his skin with a gentleness that made him sob harder, that made him clutch at her hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.
"Stop," she whispered. "Stop apologizing to me. You look pathetic."
"But I-"
"It was my fault." Her thumb traced the line of his cheekbone, smearing her own blood across his skin in a crimson arc. "I tried to kill you. I was the one who... who did this. Don't blame yourself."
"You were just-" He choked out. "You didn't have a choice-"
"I always had a choice." Her gold eyes were dimming now, the light fading from them like the last embers of a dying fire. "But I was already too far in. But I didn't think... I didn't think it would hurt this much."
Her hand was trembling against his cheek. He could feel the life draining from her, feel the warmth leaving her skin, feel the pulse in her wrist slowing, slowing, slowing.
He gasped. " Was this-was this part of the plan? Did you predict this as well?"
Reina's lips curved. It was not a smile. It was something smaller. Something that looked almost like peace.
"Yes."
The word hit him like a physical blow.
"I made an Oath," she continued, her voice growing fainter with each word. "With someone. She won't chase after you anymore." She paused. Swallowed. "I should've died a long time ago, remember how you said you never wanted to have these abilities? How you never wanted to be special? I'm sorry but this was the only way I could do this.."
"Who?" Hoshimi's voice cracked. "Who did you make the Oath with?"
"She'll tell you." Reina's hand pressed harder against his cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't be the mother you deserved. I'm sorry I had to hurt you to save you. I'm sorry I-"
"Don't." He clutched her hand tighter, pressed it harder against his face. "Just don't leave me, I can't stand it."
"You're so beautiful when you cry."
The words stopped him cold.
"I never got to see it before." Her thumb traced the tear tracks on his cheeks, mingling her blood with his tears. " But now, now you're crying. For me. For your terrible, worthless mother who tried to kill you. I'm glad."
"You're not-"
"I know." Her smile widened, just slightly, just enough. "I'm the best. The absolute best. And when you have children, when you have a family of your own, you tell them that. Tell them their grandmother was the best person ever. Tell them she loved you so much she was willing to die for you. Tell them—"
"Tell them yourselves damn it."
"Tell them I was proud of you." Her voice was barely audible now. "So proud. Of everything you became. Everything you're going to become. My son. My beautiful, crying son."
"Don't go." He clutched at her, his fingers digging into what remained of her coat, his face pressing against her chest, against the wound, against the blood that was still warm,, still proof that she was alive, that she hadn't left him yet. "Please don't go. Please. I can't- I can't do this without you-"
"You can." Her hand found his hair. Threaded through the blood-matted strands with a gentleness. "You just needed someone to push you. And I was willing to be the villain. And now, now you're free."
"I don't want to be free-I want you-"
Her hand went still.
Her chest rose. Fell. Rose again. Shallower this time. Barely there.
"Hoshimi." Her voice was a whisper. A breath. A ghost of itself. "I love you. I want you to call me mom this one last time."
Her chest fell.
"Mom… don't go, don't leave me alone."
She breathed. "It hurts. Damn it, it hurts so bad."
His vision blurred with tears. His chest heaved with ragged, desperate sobs that he couldn't control.
She fumbled at her hip with her remaining hand, her fingers clumsy, shaking. Finally she pulled the revolver free. The polished steel gleamed in the dim light. She pressed it into his palm, wrapping his fingers around the grip. "Take it."
He stared at the weapon. At her ruined body. At the blood pooling beneath her. His hand trembled.
"I can't—"
"Yes you can." Her voice was hoarse but steady. "I want it to end, it hurts, I don't like it." She tried to smile. "One last order. Shoot me, Hoshimi. Please."
"Press the barrel here." She guided his hand, pressing the muzzle against her forehead, directly between her eyes. Her gold eyes held his. "Right here. One clean shot. That's all it takes. Don't make me suffer."
"Stop…stop talking like that."
"Do it," she whispered. " Please just pull the trigger."
"Mom..." The word broke from him like a sob. "Mom, please—"
Her hand ruffled his hair. "It's okay. It's really okay..."
{"You will have to even kill the people you trust most"}
{"Prove it, prove that you can kill"}
Her hand was still in his hair.
"Jaune, there you are."
Her gold eyes were still open, fixed on something else and then faded, frozen in an expression that was almost peaceful.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
The shot echoed through the ruined street. Her hand fell from his hair.
Hoshimi dropped the revolver. It clattered onto the blood-soaked asphalt.
"Mom... mom..."
He pressed his forehead against hers. His tears fell on her cheeks, mingling with the blood, washing tracks through the dust and grime. His whole body shook with the force of his sobs, the ugly, desperate sounds tearing from his throat like something wounded.
He didn't know how long he stayed like that. Time had stopped meaning anything. There was only her face beneath his. Her hand in his hair. Her blood on his skin, warm and cooling and unbearably precious.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate. The footsteps of someone who had all the time in the world.
Hoshimi didn't look up. Couldn't look up. Couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except clutch at the body of the woman who had raised him.
Her brunette hair was perfect, untouched by the chaos that surrounded them. Her crimson eyes gleamed with that ancient light. She wore the same black sweater and dark jeans she'd worn the night she'd vanished from the Academy, the night everything had fallen apart.
She walked past him without a glance.
"Pitiful," she murmured. "She really did love you."
Hoshimi's head snapped up. His violet eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, fixed on her back with an intensity that bordered on madness.
"You—"
Sarah stopped beside Reina's body. Looked down at it with an expression that was neither satisfaction nor pity. Something that was utterly inhuman. "She made an Oath with me. I wanted the sword and she wanted you to be free, from the duty." She paused.
"You killed her-"
"I wouldn't put it like that." Sarah turned to face him. "You killed her. I simply provided the terms." Her amber eyes swept over him, taking in the tears, the blood, the desperate, ugly grief. "But I suppose that's a distinction without a difference to someone in your state."
Hoshimi lunged.
He didn't have a plan. Didn't have anything except the knife still clutched in his grip. And the desperate, consuming need to hurt her, to make her pay, to do something, anything, to fill the void that was opening inside his chest.
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!"
Sarah didn't move.
Her hand reached out. Not toward his throat. Not toward his chest. Toward his back. Her fingers pressed against his spine, directly between his shoulder blades, directly over the place where the sword's presence pulsed with its steady, ancient rhythm.
And she pulled.
The sensation was unlike anything Hoshimi had ever felt.
Something golden.
Not pain exactly. Something worse. Something that felt like a part of his soul was being ripped out through his skin. He screamed, he couldn't help it, and the sword materialized in Sarah's hand.
Excalibur. The blade of promised victory. Its golden light blazed in Sarah's grip, its runes shifting, reforming, recognizing something in her that they'd never recognized in him.
"Beautiful," Sarah murmured. "My sister really outdid herself with this one." She looked down at Hoshimi, crumpled on the ground, gasping, his back arching with the phantom pain of the sword's extraction. "She died for you. That girl. She made an Oath with me knowing full well what it would cost. Because she believed in you. Because she loved you. How pathetic you humans are."
Her lips curved.
"You—" Hoshimi pushed himself to his knees, his hands shaking, his vision blurred with tears and rage and the lingering agony of the sword's removal. "You're going to kill you, I'm going to tear off your flesh and your eyes and your skin until you suffer!"
"No." Sarah's voice was calm. Almost gentle. "You're not."
She turned away from him, the sword still blazing in her grip, its light casting long shadows across the ruined street.
"The Oath is still active. As long as I don't harm you, her sacrifice remains valid. And I have no intention of harming you." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Not yet. Not until the terms expire. And by then-" She paused.
"Come back here—" Hoshimi scrambled to his feet, the knife still in his hand, his legs barely holding him. "COME BACK HERE AND FIGHT ME DAMN IT!"
He lunged.
Sarah didn't turn.
One moment he was reaching for her throat, the next he was on the ground, his face pressed against the cold asphalt, his body refusing to move, refusing to respond, refusing to do anything except lie there like the broken, useless thing he was.
"I told you," Sarah said from somewhere above him. "You're too weak."
The footsteps stopped.
He couldn't lift his head. Couldn't speak. Could only lie there, gasping, tears streaming down his face, mixing with the blood and the dust and the ashes of everything he'd lost.
The footsteps faded. The light of the sword dimmed. The street fell silent except for the distant wail of sirens and the sound of a boy sobbing over the body of the only mother he'd ever known.
[I want to die]
Black Scene