The words shattered Blythe like shards of ice driven straight into his soul.
"Blythe…" Emma's voice broke, her words faltering as her heart wrestled with what she had to say, yet the sorrow and disbelief were as raw as they were unmistakable. "This… this isn't who you are, Blythe. You're not someone who's meant to wield vengeance as a weapon; you were never meant to let rage eclipse the person I believed you to be." She lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes filled with a sorrow so profound it seemed to darken the very air around her.
"I never taught you to harm—to destroy. All I ever wanted for you was to guard, to stand as a shield over those who needed you most… But now you've become something unrecognizable, something I can barely bear to look at."
Her voice fell to a pleading whisper, trembling under the weight of her fear and anguish. "Please, Blythe, end this now. Stop this violence before it devours every last piece of the man you once were. Go with the officers, surrender, and let this nightmare end… I can't bear to see more blood spill because of you."
Blythe's composure, built upon the foundations of righteous anger, began to tremble, his eyes darting desperately as if searching for something he could cling to. "B-But, Emma…" he stammered, his voice brittle and hollow, each word pulled from a place deeper than he knew he had. "They hurt you. They wanted to lock you away, strip away everything you've poured your life into—everything you are. I couldn't just stand by… not after all that you've done for me, for everyone."
But Emma's tears only fell faster, her anguish deepening into something that seemed to echo within her very soul, as if she were gazing upon a reflection of all that she had once loved and all that she could no longer bear to lose. "Yes, Blythe, they hurt me," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, laced with a sadness so profound it seemed to weigh her down.
"But what you did to them… Blythe, you didn't just stop them; you silenced them forever. You've crossed a line that can never be undone." Her words caught in her throat, but she forced herself to go on, her gaze piercing him with a truth he could not deny. "Once, you wanted to be a protector, someone others could turn to in their darkest hours… someone who might mend, not shatter."
"Y-Yes, Emma… I did… but—"
"Then why this?" she interrupted, her voice rising, fierce with a pain that bordered on fury.
"Why choose violence? You and your sister swore to carry on your family's legacy, to preserve it with a dignity and peace the world could never take from you. Didn't your mother ask you to live by that promise?" Her voice softened, her gaze shifting away as if she couldn't bear to look at him. "So… I'm asking you, one last time, to do what's right, to choose peace, even if it breaks your heart… Let him go, Blythe, and surrender. Please."
Blythe felt the weight of her words bear down on him, a tide he could not resist. Her voice wove through him like an unbreakable spell, silencing the fire of his anger, cooling the storm of his spirit until it was only a faint, flickering ember, struggling to hold its shape. The grip of his hand loosened as his strength ebbed, and in one last act of relinquishment, he released Isobel, severing the connection between his soul and Sam, feeling the finality of what he had done crash down upon him like an avalanche.
"Emma… I understand," he murmured, his voice hollow, the horror of his actions finally seeping into every corner of his mind, each memory now a scar he could never erase.
Isobel, pressing a hand to his neck where Blythe had bruised him, wasted no time binding his wrists in chains, his words edged with a bitterness Blythe could not refute. "You'll be leaving this world for good, Yasuda," he muttered as he yanked Blythe forward, casting one last dispassionate glance at Emma. "Next time, ma'am… be careful who you choose to protect."
Emma's gaze fell to the ground, her heart shattering as she watched them lead Blythe away, each step taking him further from the life they had once dreamed of, each step echoing her silent heartbreak. She could barely bring herself to whisper the words as he disappeared from view. "Forgive me, Blythe…" she murmured, her voice breaking like a fragile thread. "But this… this was the only choice left for us."
The tears fell unchecked as her eyes closed, her heart too burdened to even attempt holding them back. And as her vision blurred with sorrow, she felt a soft touch—a small, familiar hand reaching out from the dark. It was Chiaki, her eyes wide with worry, her small form trembling as she rushed to Emma, her arms wrapping around her as though she could somehow hold her together.
"Emma!" she cried, her voice high and terrified, clinging to her like a lifeline.
Emma's arms closed around her instinctively, pulling her close, her voice barely more than a breath. "Chiaki… I'm so glad you're safe."
Chiaki pulled back slightly, searching Emma's face, her own eyes glistening with tears. "Emma… y-you're crying. Where's my brother?" Her words wavered with the innocence of a child still too young to understand the vastness of loss.
Emma tried to steel herself, to push back the agony surging within her, but the weight of Blythe's absence was too much, the grief rising within her like a storm. She choked on her own words, her voice raw. "I… I'm so sorry, Chiaki. Your brother… he's gone, Chiaki. Gone to a place he can't return from, a place where… he's finally free."
Chiaki's face went still, her expression hollow, and as if in some distant world beyond her understanding, her eyes began to glow with a faint, ethereal pink, an otherworldly light that seemed to pulse with a wisdom far beyond her years. Her voice, soft and delicate, echoed through the quiet, threading a message that only Emma could hear.
"Emma… please don't cry. My brother made the right choice. He'll never forget what you did for him, what you gave up to save him," her voice whispered, gentle and soothing, like a soft song lingering on the wind. "He knows you let him go out of love… he knows you couldn't bear to watch him suffer." Her words seemed to wrap around Emma's heart, gentle and kind, like a balm for a wound too deep to heal.
Emma opened her eyes, her vision clearing, and she found Chiaki gazing up at her, her small hand reaching out to wipe the tears from Emma's cheeks, her touch as tender as sunlight after a long night. Emma pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her as though she could shield her from every darkness the world could offer.
"Oh, Chiaki…" Emma's voice trembled, her heart breaking all over again. "You can't stay here, Chiaki. You're not safe… they might come back. I can't lose you, too. You have to go… as far away from here as you can."
Chiaki shook her head, her small form trembling with the enormity of her sorrow. "But… but I don't want to leave you, Emma. You're all I have left. You and my brother were my only family." She clutched Emma's hand, her voice breaking, her eyes brimming with the pain of abandonment. "Please… don't make me go."
Emma looked down at her, her own heart splintering, but she held Chiaki's face gently, forcing herself to speak the words she knew she had to say. "Chiaki, my dear… you are a light in this world, a kindness that deserves more than this place can offer. There is a life waiting for you, a friend who will treasure you as fiercely as I do. Go out and find that person… and when you do, hold them close."
Chiaki's face crumpled, the sorrow etched deeply into her small features, her tears spilling over, falling like drops of rain. "But Emma… I have no one. No one else will ever love me like you do. If I leave… I'd rather die than be alone."
Emma cupped her face, brushing away her tears, her voice soft but unyielding. "Don't say that, Chiaki. Life has so much waiting for you… someone who will guard your heart with a love that won't falter. Seek them, and when you find them, cherish that love with all your soul."
---
Across the bridge, Timothy and his friends stood, waiting, their faces illuminated by the dim light, their expressions holding a quiet, unspoken strength. Chiaki looked toward them, her heart a storm of emotions. l
Timothy stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Chiaki, his expression a mixture of determination and an almost desperate hope. His voice, though clear and steady, carried the weight of all the emotions he had been holding back—the ache, the fear, the fierce love he had for her and his longing to pull her back from the edge she teetered on.
"Chiaki!" he called, his tone resonating with an urgency that seemed to slice through the silence around them. "You haven't said it yet… the words I know you're holding inside, the words that could save you." He paused, his eyes searching hers, almost as if willing his own strength into her fragile heart. "Please, Chiaki… let me hear it. Tell me, with everything you are… that you want to live!"
She looked up, her vision blurring as the leaves and dust swirled around her, as if the very earth itself were gathering its breath, holding her in a gentle, whirling embrace. It was as though nature itself sensed her struggle, the turmoil in her heart, and now rose up in silent support, urging her to stay, to hold on, to reclaim her place in the world. The air grew thick with the whisper of fallen leaves and the soft touch of dust, dancing like fragments of forgotten dreams, wrapping around her in a way that felt both grounding and ethereal, like a promise she was only beginning to understand.
And within that swirling cocoon, Chiaki felt something stir within her—a spark, a quiet but unyielding force rising through the haze of doubt, as if the world around her had awoken her soul to a truth she had buried.
But the vision flickered, like a candle catching its final breath before blazing anew, reopening her view, each tear clouding her sight and yet, somehow, making it all the clearer. A voice drifted through the air, quiet yet piercing, startling her, as if summoning her from the edge of her own despair.
"If I… if I'm allowed to declare my wish…" she whispered, her voice soft, fragile, yet steadying itself with each word, as raindrops began to fall around her, gentle beads that burst upon the ground like tiny, rhythmic heartbeats. Each drop was a reminder of life's fragile beauty, a pulse that pulled her back to herself, back to the moment, back to the choice she still held within her.
Then, drawing from a strength buried deep within, Chiaki's voice rose, soft but unbreakable, like a delicate song pushing through the weight of a silent night. "Then I…" she breathed, her voice dissipating into the rain, yet carrying forward, unyielding, as if reaching beyond the confines of her own fragile heart,
"I want to live!"
Her words seemed to echo beyond her own voice, filling the air around her, reverberating within her as if they were a lifeline pulling her from the dark depths of her sorrow. She could feel it—the weight of hope rekindling within her, a small yet fierce spark igniting a flame within her chest. Her face, wet with tears that sparkled like a thousand tiny stars, now gleamed with a light beyond her despair, a shimmer of belief that melted the emptiness within her heart.
Her spirit lifted, her heart swelling with a renewed, blazing determination as her sorrow transformed into something vast, something fierce, something that could no longer be contained. "Take me out to the sea with you!" she cried, her voice filled with the boundless yearning of a soul reborn, a cry that surged through the air like a storm's first powerful wave.
And so it was, that her voice—no longer a whisper but a force of life, of strength, of hope—rose across the landscape, echoing through the hearts of those who heard it, Timothy and the others feeling its power wash over them like a river unbound, an unstoppable flood of light and resilience. In that moment, her voice was like the wild roar of the ocean, like the unyielding spirit of a life reclaimed, and with it, she carried the sensation of a spirit reborn, a soul risen from the ashes, more radiant and alive than ever.
To be continued…