Later that evening, Akari and Kamari decided to communicate privately without involving the boys. They passed notes back and forth to avoid any potential eavesdropping, the tension between them palpable.
Kamari scribbled her first question on a piece of parchment and slid it toward Akari.
"If you are me, then I have a question. Why are you here?"
Akari read it and raised an eyebrow before writing her reply.
"Tell me, was it you who killed my blonde friend in my first life?"
Kamari's eyes widened slightly as she wrote her answer.
"Yes, it was me. And I also know they were an angel. But you and I both know I can't report them."
Akari smirked as she read it, scribbling back quickly.
"You can, I suppose. But will you?"
Kamari's response was immediate.
"Why wouldn't I? You're here for revenge, aren't you?"
"Yes," Akari replied, her pen strokes firm, "and I will take it."
Kamari's hand hovered over the parchment before she wrote her next words.
"I won't let that happen."
Akari leaned forward, locking eyes with Kamari as she penned her next note.
"You are me, and I am you. You know me well enough to understand that I don't give up."
Kamari frowned, her pen pressing harder than before as she wrote back.
"You little—"
Akari cut her off with a sly smile as she wrote.
"It's better for you to keep quiet, or I'll do something that will doom us both."
Kamari glared, the next note written in bold strokes.
"I won't let you touch Alastair."
Akari let out a soft laugh, her response calm but sharp.
"I have no ill intentions toward him. Fear not, he's not the prey of our revenge."
She slid the note back with a mysterious smile, standing up to leave. Kamari read the words, her golden eyes narrowing, as Akari turned away.
As Akari walked off, she whispered softly to herself, "One move at a time, Kamari. Let's see who plays this game better."
As a week passed, Akari's new theory about their coexistence proved accurate. The shared region was beginning to take a toll on their bodies, and both Akari and Kuro felt the consequences of their distorted souls.
---
On Akari and Kuro's side:
Kuro was sitting on the floor, clutching his side. "It hurts," he groaned.
Akari winced, trying to steady herself. "I know. Let me go in."
Kuro raised an eyebrow at her, looking more protective than ever. "What do you mean go in?"
Akari narrowed her eyes at his reaction. "Don't be dirty-minded, you idiot. I mean let me go into your soul chamber."
Realizing his misunderstanding, Kuro coughed awkwardly and looked away. "Oh, I see."
"Good. Now, stop wasting time," Akari said, rolling her eyes.
Kuro nodded, finally letting her into the soul chamber. As soon as she entered, he followed right behind her.
"The pain... it's already easing up a bit," Kuro said, exhaling as he felt some relief.
Akari turned to him with a frown. "Why are you here?"
Kuro shrugged, still holding his aching side. "What, did you expect me to let you sulk in pain alone?"
"I'm fine on my own," Akari said, her voice firm but trembling slightly.
Kuro shook his head, his tone softening. "Hey, I know the amount of pain you're feeling is double mine. I can see it."
Akari hesitated, then muttered, "Yeah, but—"
"No buts. Now, lie down and hold my hand. It'll help relieve the pain—I read about this somewhere," Kuro said, his expression serious.
Akari looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "I'm not lying down with you."
Kuro smirked faintly, despite the situation. "I'm not going to do anything naughty, Akari."
Before she could protest further, Kuro grabbed her and lifted her off her feet.
"Kuro!" Akari exclaimed, her face heating up.
"Relax," Kuro said, carrying her and lying her down gently on the floor. He settled beside her, their faces barely inches apart.
"Okay, okay, I'm lying down! Now give me some space," Akari said, her cheeks flushed.
Kuro, equally flustered, quickly moved back a little, putting just enough distance between them. They lay there, side by side, holding hands—not too close, but not too far either.
Akari sighed as she felt the pain gradually subside. "This is actually helping," she admitted, her voice softer.
"Told you it would," Kuro replied, his smirk faintly returning.
Akari's breathing slowed as the exhaustion and lingering pain made her a little dizzy. Her eyelids drooped, and she mumbled, "You're still an idiot, though."
Kuro chuckled lightly. "And you're still stubborn."
As they lay there, the tension between them eased. Despite the pain, there was an unspoken comfort in their closeness, even if neither of them wanted to admit it out loud.
As Akari and Kuro lay there, the silence between them was comfortable, but then Akari suddenly spoke up.
"You know," she began, her voice soft, "in the second timeline, when you randomly declared that you would marry me…"
Kuro's eyes widened in recognition. "The timeline where I was a depressed tyrant bastard?" he replied, his tone laced with both annoyance and a hint of embarrassment.
"Yeah, that one," Akari said with a small, bittersweet smile.
Kuro shifted uncomfortably but kept his gaze on her. "So, what about it?"
Akari hesitated, then glanced at him, her expression a mixture of nostalgia and amusement. "Well... One day before the wedding, you asked me to come to your room."
Kuro frowned, his brow furrowing. "Did something happen?"
Akari shot him a pointed look. "Not something you dirty-minded person is thinking."
Kuro blushed a little at her reprimand but stayed silent.
Akari continued, "You asked me to lie down with you, and, to be honest, I hesitated for a while. But I gave in."
Kuro blinked, his heart racing as memories of that time came rushing back. "Oh."
"Yeah," Akari continued, her voice growing softer, "And at that time, you said, 'Hey, I won't do anything bad. I'm still a gentleman when it comes to women.'" She mimicked his tone, laughing softly.
Kuro went completely still, his face flushed. "Oh," he said, looking away slightly.
Akari smiled gently, her voice tinged with warmth. "It was the first time I felt like you were the same Kuro as in the first timeline. Honestly, I was pretty happy about it." She paused, her expression turning fond. "We lied down and talked until late at night, and we fell asleep holding hands—just like now."
Kuro's chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words. He had never fully realized how deeply those moments had impacted both of them. They had been so innocent, yet meaningful.
"I'm glad it made you happy," Kuro said softly, his voice vulnerable in a way it rarely was. "It made me happy too."
Akari turned her head slightly, their eyes meeting for a brief moment, a quiet understanding passing between them. There was a certain depth to the way they connected in that moment—an unspoken bond that had persisted across timelines.
"Yeah," Akari whispered. "It felt right."
Kuro gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and for a long while, they simply lay there in the quiet, the pain in their bodies forgotten, replaced by something warmer and more comforting.