(A/N: The last update of this year!!
Okay, okay, yes I'm so sorry the Germany and Japan part is super short and everything about this was rushed because I kept having this looming feeling over me that I haven't finished this hella long pour part thingy so I was like dang I gotta get this done I apologize if it's terrible cuz it is XP
I would love to make more but I've just been so stressed, I just want to enjoy my Winter Break :3 I hope next year will be a little better than this one (which isn't a lot to ask for since this year was a wreck lmao like I never asked for a tangerine lookin' mofo to become my president no thanks) and I'll be a little more organized (hopefully). Over the break I'll be sure to create a neater schedule (unfortunately this might include less chapters being updated since I have to concentrate on other things like school and my other hobbies) and finalize plans for a future 20K reads special, as well as the upcoming chapters (I'll try to make them as dramatic as possible). In the beginning of January I might just share a few ideas of mine with you all so watch out for that.
Can't wait to write for you guys next year ^o^ Thank you again for the continued support, and happy holidays! As always, I hope you enjoy~!)
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"Man needs color to live; it's just as necessary an element as fire and water."
-Fernard Leger
"In our life there is a single color, as on an artist's palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love."
-Marc Chagall
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~Previously~
She continued to feel the rose until she grasped it by the stem and ripped it out of her hair. The darkness of the shadows became a tornado, harsh and whip like. The wild winds subsided....
And all that was left behind was a withered flower that disintegrated into dust upon touching the ground.
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|Germany's POV|
"I have a bad feeling about-"
"Already made that joke."
"Oh. Right."
Though it's something I like to pride myself with, I am a natural at keeping calm. Right now? Let's just say it isn't one of my most peaceful moments.
A shrill cry for help sounded in my ears. I recognized it almost instantly as France's. Her back faced me and she drew toward France like a snake, merciless and vicious. I could imagine the look on her face, she shows it often in battle. Her cold, serious attitude, yet the burning desire for murder radiating off her face. It was admittedly frightening when she put on that demeanor when she fought, but the thought of her looking at another human with those eyes...
Before she could take another step, I flicked my whip against the ground to get her attention. Her eyes flicked to mine and the amount of absolute horror embedded in her (E/C) orbs brought me confusion. Especially since she clutched at a part of her arm and flinched.
A roar came piercing from her lips, banishing away any trace of fear that she had revealed to me. I normally would've relied on strength to beat her, but she was so agile and fast that my eyes could barely keep up with her, much less my stocky body. I turned it into a battle of knife versus whip. I was sure that I would lose, I'm at a disadvantage since she seems to know more about her knife than me and I can't use too much of my strength or I might hurt her too severely.
I noticed that she was defending herself a lot, almost desperate as she tries and succeeds in barely escaping the attacks with my whip. She kept a keen eye on my whip and refused to move in a direction where it would be out of her peripheral vision, such as behind me. I decided to keep sending out relentless attacks and talk at the same time.
"You seem to connect with the countries better with me, (Name). I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of that. But I do trust you. I count on you to not only support the nations in a physical manner, but mentally as well. You hold onto that tiny ounce of innocence for life, you hear? Because that special kind of magic you have is the gift of chasing away insanity, and losing a person's mind is much worse than losing their body."
My whip finally made contact with her, the wire twirling around her arm and tightening sturdily. With one huge tug, her feet floated across the ground and planted themselves in front of me.
I clasped a firm hand on her shoulder and nodded respectfully. "(Name), I'm counting on you. To keep my brother safe, and most of all, to keep us all safe."
Gray.
The color of intellect, knowledge and wisdom. It is perceived as classic, refined, dignified and conservative. Gray is a perfect neutral that lives between the extremes of black and white. The neutral initiative of gray keeps a perfect harmonizing tone. It is being careful, focused and dedicated to your commitments. It symbolizes perseverance and wisdom, and it inspires patience, reflection and organization. Often it is linked to materials such as concrete and steel, giving the idea of solid and long-lasting.
She hung her head and the only part of her body that moved was her hand, which shook under the weight of her knife. I glanced up and found Japan's eyes, giving a nod. I assumed he wanted to have a word with (Name), too, so I took my hand off her shoulder.
Just as I did, she looked up at me and dread collapsed onto me.
"Please...don't..."
Her eyes, dull and gray. No fire flaming with anger, or the chilling venom of a snake. Nothing. And that was the scary part, they weren't anything at all. Just a void of darkness, a husk of emptiness.
"Don't what?"
"Don't count on me for anything."
Then a demon sunk its claw into my shoulder and I was thrown into a world of shadows.
|Japan's POV|
When Germany gave me a nod, I couldn't help but panic. I didn't mean to make eye contact with him, and now he thinks I wanted to try to talk to her. Speak from the heart?
"You are strong, stronger than the many soldiers I've seen on the battlefield. The mansion is a battlefield and you've conquered it with ease. However, strength is nothing if you don't work with the others around you. If not, there'll be mistrust, chaos and darkness, I promise you that. Lies will be told and secrets kept in the bottom of hearts. That is not strength."
(Name)'s sword battled with mine, two blades that fought for dominance. I suddenly twisted my sword to slide into the empty air beside her and (Name) stumbled forward, like some kind of magnet drawn to me. I grabbed her knife with my bare hand, the tip sinking into my palm and leaving a thin line, dotted with thick droplets of blood.
"We've all done bad things." I managed to speak through gritted teeth. "But you...you've done so much for us that even if we were to figure out what horrible thing you did, it wouldn't matter. It doesn't matter. Those are the words you needed to hear, right?
Well here they are: your tainted past should never tamper with the hope and purity of a brighter future. I hope you remember that, (Name)."
White.
It is associated with light, goodness, innocence, a sense of purity and new beginnings. It is considered to be the color of perfection. It means safety, cleanliness, simplicity, clarity, hope, precision, equality, unity, completion and neutrality. As opposed to black, white usually has a positive connotation. White means to seek excellence and enlightenment in all philosophies.
Blood splatters. Flesh tears. Eyes well.
And all she's left with is a certain auburn haired Italian standing in front of her.
|Italy's POV|
"Bella-"
"No, I'm fine. Just fight me already-"
"Miss (Name), you're not okay." I fished out a handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed it gently along her chapped lips, its redness staining the white cloth in my hand.
"Stop trying to take care of me, I can take care of myself! I-I'll kill you." She snapped. She roared in anger, swiftly drawing closer to me.
I sidestepped and jabbed precisely at her fist, paralyzing it. Her knife clattered to the floor and she ungracefully stumbled ahead of me, letting out a loud grunt.
"Please, don't even try, ragazza." I smiled innocently and gave her head a pat. "I know a thing or two about knives, too~ I suggest you stop trying to murder me and listen instead, Miss (Name)."
She rubbed at her hand and glared harshly at me. "Yeah, yeah. And it's (Name). Just (Name). It feels weird adding a title of honor in front of my name when I'm the enemy."
"But you're not the enemy!" I paused to choose my words carefully. "Not all of my memories are back yet, but I do remember a little bit about you. The memory is blurry, but all I can remember was you. Your sword held up high in the air. Your grip was uncertain and awkward, but when you looked back at me over your shoulder, I doubt I've never seen an expression so sure and powerful."
"N-No. That's not what happened...you left me to fend for myself and I got hurt somehow..." She grabbed the side of her head, wincing in pain.
"Your memories must be as jumbled as mine." I chuckled. "I guess we're both in the same boat, huh?"
"..."
"Hey, (Name)? Have you ever wished for anything?"
"Yeah, probably. Why, what about you?"
"Me?
I wish for a lot of things.
I wish I had never heard about this mansion.
I wish I had never told America.
I wish I could turn back time,
All the way to the beginning, where I first made my mistake.
All the horrible things I've seen...all the blood...all the deaths. I wish I never had to witness those in the first place."
I gently trailed my fingertips down her hollow cheeks.
"I wish you hadn't stumbled upon this gruesome place like I had."
No matter how much I wish, I won't be able to rid myself of my past. How was I to know that walking into this mansion would result in being trapped in it? Being curious wasn't my mistake. No, my mistake was that I've bottled it all up. I refused to tell anyone about what I've done. I don't..." I took in a deep, shaky breath, forcing myself to keep talking. "I-I don't want to lose my friends. My fear of being hated by the people I've cared about the most taunted me. I was terrified of it, so frightened of the idea that I had to tell the truth.
But I've decided something. I will tell them the truth. Not only because they need to know, but because I want them to know. It's difficult sharing a burden with others, but it has to be done."
I balled the piece of cloth in my hand. It once was the color of a pure white winter day, the innocence of powdery snow. Now it was stained a dark red, and it will always be that color.
"You told me to run, that day you saved me."
I lifted my head.
"I don't want to run anymore. Not from my past, not from the truth-
And certainly not from my friends. One day, I hope you won't copy my mistake. "
I pried open her trembling fist and tucked it into her palm, pressing her fingers over it.
My white flag. Forever stained red.
"I wish for a lot of things, and it's next to impossible for most of them to come true. However, there's one wish I hope from the bottom of my heart that you can grant.
There are people that are right behind you, every step of the way. I wish that you'll rely on them, just as they rely on you."
I cupped both my warm hands around her cold ones. I dipped my head, planting a kiss on her knuckles.
Green.
The color of calmness, relaxation and health. Green has a close association with the season of spring when all of the plants are coming back to life, after the cold winter months. Think of nature and see green in all of its glory. It evokes a feeling of abundance and a plentiful environment while providing a restful and secure feeling.
Nature itself to surrounded (Name). Within the crevices of her fingers, flames the color of a fern engulfed my white flag, causing it to glimmer like a bright, emerald jewel exposed to the sunlight. Tiny buds sprouted from olive vines that spiraled around her arms, all made of the same green fire.
It represents life, renewal, nature, energy, sympathy, balance, youthfulness and sentimentality. It is associated with meanings of growth, harmony, freshness, safety, and fertility. The color green has healing power and is understood to be the most restful and relaxing color for the human eye to view.
>gEt Up!<
"I can't..."
>FiGhT!<
"I don't want to...I want to stop..."
>dOn'T LeT tHeiR PaThEtiC wOrDs GeT tO yOu. ThEy'Re aLL LiEs! LiEs I tELL yOu!<
"I don't want to hurt him..."
>FiGhT<
>It'S tHe OnLy tHiNg yOu'LL EvEr bE GoOd aT<
"The only thing I...the only thing, huh..."
"ITALY, WATCH OUT!"
A thud. Screaming voices. A pounding in my eardrums.
The pain...
Make it stop...
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|Prussia's POV|
"It didn't work! We all tried and nothing worked...
Prussia. You're our only hope."
'Our only...hope...'
The weight of those words smashed into my skull, a thunderclap of sudden desperation and pressure shocking me to the core.
"...Okay."
'It's not okay-'
"I'll do my best."
'I'm going to fail-'
I nervously clutched the sword in my sweating palm, turning the handle in my hands as we made our way to (Name). The vigorous movement of my body barely drained my energy and each swing became a distant blur. My mind was on her.
What the heck was I going to say? It's the only thing I've been thinking nonstop ever since she left and now my tongue decides specifically at this faithful moment to be tied up in a knot of anxiety.
Then it was her voice. A scream. A body crashing to the ground. Gunshots firing.
I sprinted toward the frenzied mix of noises and saw her. Like a criminal slinking away from a crime, she looked horrified as she tried to escape.
I didn't let her. I ran, raising my sword. Wait, what was I doing? Why...was I holding a weapon against her?
At the last moment, my sword's tip fell to my feet and I slammed into her.
We came crashing to the floor, a pile of heavy breaths and tired limbs. My back pressed against the cold ground and I felt (Name)'s head bump mine. She quickly straightened her back and hoisted her knife. A wild, brutish battle cry came piercing from her lips. Her eyes were wide, like she herself was surprised at how easily her entire body could be controlled by the powerful force known as violence and hatred.
Yet I remained still. For a few quiet moments she just glared at me, her hands quaking violently. I slowly sat upright and pulled together whatever kind of smile I could muster. I cupped my hands around hers, causing the shaking in her fingers to diminish.
"Y-You're...
You're beautiful, even if you are trying to kill me."
She instinctively ripped her hands from mine and scooted backwards, stumbling off my legs ungracefully. She hopped to her feet and looked down at me with a puzzle expression plastered on her scrunched face.
"Huh? The heck are you lying for?"
"It's the truth. It is, frau." I got up and stepped forward, too fast for her to move back. I placed my hands on her shoulders, preventing her from running away. "Being left alone with my thoughts certainly has taken a toll on me. I've given so much thought about what I was going to say to you when I would see you again...but now I'm at a loss of words. So let me speak with my actions first."
I slapped her across the face.
She held her fingertips to touch her cheek. Her face went pale and her eyes flashed, trying to decide how to react. When she decided on anger, I could see how her expression contorted so easily, her eyebrows narrowing sharply and her teeth gritting.
I tilted my head and pressed my forehead to touch hers.
"Y-You're...so stupid...
And that's saying a lot...since it's coming from me..."
>oNe<
And I collapsed.
>tWo<
To the ground..
>tHREE<
Broken...
>fOuR<
And defeated....
>FiVe<
The world.....
>SiX<
It spun......
>sEvEn<
For the knife.......
>EiGhT<
The knife that stabbed through my stomach.
>NiNe<
It hurt.
>tEn<
|Reader's POV|
Tears.
Tears sliding down my cheeks.
His tears.
And mine.
Everything...felt like it was crumbling. Right under my feet.
I was cold. Hollow. Darkness was swallowing me...I could feel it.
But it didn't hurt me. These dark flames that covered me. They held me close, hugged me. Then came his voice. Kind, gentle, soothing. Not what I would expect from the bearer of the deadly, blood red eyes I had just been staring at.
"Stop being selfish. Instead of wanting to die a hero, fight for your right to live. Fight because you want to live with those you love, not die for them.
Can you do that for me...frau?"
He tugged my knife out of his side, letting it clatter to the ground. Blood poured out of his wound-but then something extraordinary happened. The crimson red shifted to a shiny, ebony color; it was the same color as the burning fire that surrounded me. It mended the hole in his skin, bit by bit.
My legs caved in. I dropped down in front of him, feeling the tears building up and finally beginning to cascade down my cheeks.
"I...
I just don't want to lose you...just like how I lost my sister."
Color.
A beautiful thing, color. A power that influences the soul. A language in itself, deep and mysterious.
The colorful balls of fire ignited and circled around me at a mind boggling rate. They found their way through the darkness, slicing the pitch black color immediately. I was filled with warmth, kindness, bravery, strength-all the beautiful things that I was gifted with that made me who I am today.
How could I ever have forgotten that?
Then all the countries ran towards me. All at once.
"W-Wait, hold on you guys-"
Yeah, they didn't listen. They wrapped my arms around me until we all were eventually a big, exhausted heap of people in a messy group hug. We toppled over like dominoes and I felt like the air got sucked out of my lungs, but I've never been happier.
We laughed. A chorus of small, bubbly chuckles, or loud, hearty laughs-just happiness in general.
People care about me. I actually feel wanted, loved.
I couldn't stop smiling.
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A smile. A smile on the face of a person that looks shockingly similar to me.
"Wait-"
A tilt of their black tricorn hat, and they vanished right before my eyes.
"Who...are you?"
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>ReAdY oR NoT hErE I cOME<
'(Name!)'
An urgent, worried hiss echoed in my ears. I never felt so relieved to hear such a sound. It was the voice of someone I was supposed to hate, supposed to distrust, yet a part of me reveled in reassurance.
'...Vargas.'
'Ragazza, as much as I would love to make our little reunion more sentimental, I don't have the time nor the feelings for that. I'll make this blunt: The Oni, it's coming your way.'
"What?!" Shock swept my body, leaving me to forget that I was mumbling aloud. "Where did it even come from? How-" I got chills. "That girl..."
'Yes. I don't know the specifics, but it's obvious that she's connected to the Oni somehow. She didn't exactly possess you, she only poisoned your mind with falsehood. She twisted the good memories you've had with the 1ps and made you believe that they had hurt you in some shape or form. She is an enemy to you, yes, but now is not the time to face her.'
'Why not? I won't be alone, I have the 1ps with me and we can easily-'
'Don't be so hasty, (Name), because it isn't that easy. This is an enemy that we don't have enough information on. Furthermore, you, especially you, and the 1ps aren't in proper fighting condition.'
He was right. England looked like he was going to collapse at any moment, America had run out of ammunition, and I felt like absolute trash. My joints cracked tiredly, my legs wobbled uneasily and my muscles groaned with pain and soreness. My head spun like a carousel and I had to keep gulping back that feeling like I was about to vomit.
'Your number one priority is to get out of there alive. Right now you're in the darkest part of your mind. I'm outside with Flavio and Gil at one of the entrances. I need you to find me.'
"Find...you..." I whispered, puzzled. I spun around slowly, my forehead crinkling with confusion. "How?"
'Our minds are connected, don't forget that. It's hard to explain but after having a change of perspective and a bout of realization, I've been able to sense and locate you more clearly.
So that brings about the question: Do you trust me?'
Do...I?
Can I trust a 2p? The personification of the negative emotions of someone? That someone being Italy. Just like Luciano, I've had trouble trusting Italy after what he'd done to his own friends, but I soon realized that he did it because he thought it was right.
I was still unsure about Luciano, in all honesty. He was mysterious and secretive about his motives and a lot of other things...but he had also done so much to gain my trust. He's calm and patient when explaining things to me, he's helped me out of several bad situations and most of all he went out of his way to wake me up to the point that he fainted out of exhaustion.
So do I trust him?
I was afraid to say the answer aloud, but my mind had sensed it.
'I think you should know the answer to that.'
And there it was. An picture of Luciano popped up in my head, surprisingly detailed and intricate. Dressed in his usual tan uniform, his lean figure is in the process of running someplace. His familiar features come as easily as would identifying any of the 1ps, and I start to feel a little odd about it. A venomous, concentrated smirk brushed at the tips of his rose pink lips. With every one of his fast paced steps, the wavering image appearing in my mind grew sharper, as sharp as the knife he skillfully wields, grasped in a cold hand cloaked in a black leather glove.
However, a pang of concern smacked me in the cheek when I saw the beads of sweat rolling down his sunken face. His cheekbones stuck out prominently from his hollow cheeks, his jawline is tight, and it looks like a child applied eye shadow below his eyes. His magenta orbs are a mix of worry and hope radiating off their muted, slightly faded color. His auburn hair is unnaturally more tousled and messy, differentiating immensely from their normal neatly combed state. I noticed the little things that made me nervous, like how his tie was undone, his belt hung loosely against his waist and his hat was barely clinging to his chaotic head of hair.
The distress and unease rose in my stomach, and only then did I realize that a string was attached to my ring finger. It was wrapped very firmly around my tiny finger, but loosened the moment I had the thought. It seemed to be pulsing with power and strength, bringing me comfort and vitality. Every time I moved the string would twirl, and it would change color, from a rich scarlet to the auburn color of his hair or the deep magenta in his eyes. I could feel all of the emotions he felt-all the fear, misery, irritation, confusion-everything stockpiled in my heart.
'Concentrate on something, some kind of word that reminds you of me.' His soothing voice whispered, warm and cold all at once. 'That is how you'll find me.'
Bittersweet. That is the word I chose.
I imagined it all...all the terror and the happiness, the weakness and the strength, the hesitance and the clarity, the calamity and the peace, the teasing and the sincerity, the enemy and the friend, the lust and the purity, the cold and the warm, the bitter and the sweet everything that existed in the complicated, lone human being known as Luciano Vargas.
I ran. I ran through the darkness, incapable of stopping even if I wanted to. The string kept me tethered to reality, to the strength that I definitely wasn't going to be letting go of anytime soon.
Bittersweet, bittersweet. Where are you, Luciano?
I came to a stop. A knife pressed against my throat.
I had never been more glad to have been threatened by a weapon.
"Why is it that every time I see you, one of us are throwing a blade to the others' throat?"
Luciano gave a chuckle, a methodical sound that vibrated softly in the back of his throat. He put down his arm and sheathed his knife.
"What can I say? We just love having these intimate, near death moments, don't we?"
Now it was my turn to laugh. I scrutinized his horrible state and I couldn't help but start to frown. He looked way worse in real life.
"You look like hell."
"Darling, I am hell." He cocked a smug smile and for a split second I almost believed him. Almost.
I reached for him and his grin dissipated as he gently smacked my outstretched hand away. "I'll be fine. Well, as fine as I can be, at the very least." He sighed and looked over my shoulder, where I could hear the rest of the 1ps calling my name and running after me. His eyes met mine once more and his face changed.
He drew his knife and put it to his lip, murmuring in a hushed tone. The blade sizzled to life, momentarily baffling me. Frost crept up the knife but instead of being the color of snow it was engulfed with a crimson red color. Without even taking the time to process my stupid decision, I reached up and touched it, getting burned by the simmering, frozen ice.
Luciano snickered in amusement while I grabbed my hand, flinching. He flicked his blade, sending a wave of ice crystals to stab a hole through the wall of darkness. Their blood red tips opened up a pure white gateway shaped like a door, similar to the one we had entered before. The moment he sheathed his knife, the ice melted away as if it had never existed in the first place.
"Nice job." He mused.
"Shut up, Vargas."
Luciano placed a hand on his hip and winked at me. "Never thought I'd love to hear that familiar phrase coming out of your mouth."
"Hm," I rolled my eyes. "Well I never thought I'd actually miss you."
I coughed and slapped a hand against my mouth, recoiling in pain. I had idiotically chosen my injured hand to hit my lips.
"Let me see your hand."
I laughed nervously and backed away. "N-Nah, I'll be fine-"
He snatched my hand anyway. When my fingers quivered in response, his clutch eased up. He carefully lifted my hand to his eye level. A noticeable blemish of red was seared into my middle and ring fingers from the burn. Without a single warning, Luciano closed his eyes, dipped his head and pressed his lips to my skin.
"A-Ah?!?" I voiced in a flustered, jittery tone. I found myself shivering when his lips parted and his cool breath crept along my fingers. Instead of it hurting again, the burn vanished. He held my hand firmly as his eyelashes brushed my fingernails.
"Better?"
I bit my tongue, forcing myself to nod no matter how uncomfortable I felt. Our entwined hands were lowered and I thought he would let go, but was oddly glad that he didn't. His cold palms pressing against my warm ones made for a faint, relaxing tingling feeling tugging at my hands. Before I could even process what the heck was going on with me, his arms wrapped around my waist and he buried his face into the crook of my neck.
"I hate you. I hate you for leaving me so suddenly like that." He uttered into my ear, his voice as smooth as silk. Each word that passed by became slower and the huskiness in his tone returned. His body collapsed into mine and the tenseness in his muscles subsided. The weariness had finally caught up to him and he seemed to be trying desperately to keep himself upright. "I hate you...I hate you so much because I couldn't help but miss you. More than I hate you, I hate myself for that. You did this to me, and yet I blame myself for being hypnotized by your little spell.
I missed you, mio amore. I hate you and I miss you. How did something like that ever come to be?"
He sounded mad-no, frustrated. Defeated. Everything about his clutter of sentences made any sense to me. But I didn't like anything about the tone of his voice-a wave of emotion crashing down in every word he spoke, the push and pull between the loud, but barely audible whispers that echoed both lifelessly and animatedly. How there was something about the way he held me, squeezing my waist as if he was afraid I was going to leave again, but at the same time trying to let me go.
This was a side of Luciano I had never seen before. I was appreciative of his decision to reveal a surge of feelings that conflicted immeasurably with his normal calm and collected self, yet on the other hand it was so disheartening to see him so broken and tired. I didn't like it at all. I had this fierce urge to comfort him, to sort out his confusing emotions bit by bit...but I didn't know how to. I couldn't relate to what he was feeling, nor did I even understand the swarm of thoughts going through his head.
The words slipped through my mouth, "Hey, Satan. Listen here you big idiot."
He pulled back, eyes wide. I didn't know what to say, what to do. What would be enough to pacify the demons that dared to swallow him whole?
I cradled his warm cheek in my hand, my touch igniting a spark in those brilliant, glowing eyes of his.
"I don't know exactly what kind of battle you're going through, but I'm right here. I'm right here." I repeated, letting the silence fill what little gap there was between our faces.
Then it came. The string appeared again in the corner of my eyes. Burning with fervor and passion, yet cool to the touch.
My heart spoke before my mind could, "...I...I missed you, too...
Luciano."
At first it was the shock, then it was the smile.
Every amount of fatigue in his expression dissolved when he flashed me that smile. That smile, the kind of smile that made you melt upon eye contact, the kind of smile that was so rare for a person like Luciano that you couldn't help but feel a bundle of joy and happiness clench at your heart.
"Luciano, huh? It has a nice ring to it when you say it."
I playfully pouted and punched him in the forearm. "Don't get used to it."
"Whatever you say~" He spoke in a singsong voice, leaning forward and quickly landing a peck on my cheek. "Now wake up. I hope we get the chance to take properly some other time."
---
I was saved.
It didn't matter who it was that saved me. It didn't matter that they were on opposite sides of the spectrum, that they got along as well as darkness and light, as fire and ice. The fact that both of them wanted to save me was enough for it to actually happen.
It didn't matter who saved me, but why they saved me. That was enough to make me lift my head up and keep going on.
I awoke. Not the frightened, urgent kind of awakening, but the silent lifting of my eyelids. I was back in the mansion. I wasn't going to be afraid, nor was I alone anymore.
And that was all I needed to realize for me to be saved.