Spoilers for the dance arc in chapters 48-50, as 30 finishes up that mini trilogy started with 5 and 18. Otherwise, 29 has a passing reference to chapter 60-something in the Hanahime arc, 26 is completely AU, 27's a follow-up to 20 "the road home", and the rest is me completely darkening up everything about Tsubasa. Like Misaki last time, sort of.

And yes, this is the end. A very long end, but still the end.

Key to Flying
Done for the 30 KISSES challenge
By DarkenedSakura
Themes #26-30 (what you are is beautiful)

26. if only I could make you mine

and it could go something like this…

--l--

There was a boy, tall and lanky with deep, piercing eyes and matching blue hair, a special star insignia pinned to his collar and a black star under his eye.

There was a girl, all sturdy stature, pink eyes, and hair with the tips flaring out to the sides like her personality sometimes did, three gold stars to her collar and her name.

--l--

"Tsubasa."

"Persona."

"The mission is tonight."

"…All right."

"Be sure to take him out this time."

…while:

"Misaki?"

"Hm?"

"The teachers are looking for you. They need you to help with the setup for the – "

"Ugh, I completely forgot. All right, I'm headed over there."

"…They also say that you need to keep your doppelgangers from wreaking havoc this time."

"Yeah…all right. Make it sound like it's my fault, why don't you."

--l--

He was only the most eligible bachelor in the entire building.

Girls flocked to him, girls screamed and squealed and giggled over him, girls ran into his path and would start babbling to him. And while he was sort of the cool, aloof type, he never treated them as being below him; he would stop and talk to them a little bit, mouth off some pleasantries with a bit of a glimmer in his eye that made them swoon.

Repeatedly.

They adored him. Adored his deep blue eyes and his deadly attractiveness that he had to have been aware of, adored his enigmatic mystique and shrouded secrets. Absolutely charmed by his dark appeal, how he was in the dangerous type class and how he'd disappear for days at a time and how he rarely ever smiled save for an unusual smirk. They were, simply put, charmed by him.

Dangerous and dark and brooding and handsome and everything a girl could ask for.

The only thing was, he rarely reciprocated, seriously or no.

…at the same time:

She was only the most eligible bachelorette in the entire building.

Guys wouldn't flock to her, per se, but if she walked down a hallway, they would look. Not that she had the most feminine, curvy figure, but she just had this air about her and was still so attractive in this way that was wholly her own. And while she wasn't really the cool, aloof type, she was still so out of reach; there was always some unknown, invisible barrier that kept them away and from getting really involved with her, even as she laughed with a bark in her voice and smiled with her eyes in a way that could disarm them all.

Every time.

They admired her. Admired her looks and the beauty that they thought she wasn't aware of, admired her mystique and vitality. Absolutely charmed by the way she was yet wasn't one of the other girls, by the way she'd seem to disappear despite standing in front of them at the same time, something they could only notice by the far-off look she got in her eyes. They were, simply put, charmed by her.

Quirky and bold and brash and beautiful and everything they could really ask for.

The only thing was, she never reciprocated, and she really never knew.

…& the thing was;

When they thought about it, everyone found it rather ironic how the most appealing guy and girl amongst them, whether for reasons that were the same or different or unknown, were both so unattainable.

And when they never thought about it, because they never did, nobody pictured the two of them next to each other.

Ever.

It'd be too hard to imagine, if they ever thought of it.

--l--

There was a boy.

There was a girl.

…but the one time that they collided:

He was languidly kissing one of his classmates.

Who she was, he hardly had a clue. In fact, he didn't have much of an idea as to why he was doing such a thing. Boredom, perhaps. Needed something different, maybe. Hormones wouldn't let him out of this one, a little more unlikely, but probably not. Maybe even yes.

He was hoping she was a somebody, maybe.

The girl pulled closer to Tsubasa, far too eager, and it suddenly struck him that maybe this wasn't what he was looking for, maybe she was just one of those floozies that stuck in the crowd next to him and never would've meant much of anything even with this moment.

Definitely a nobody.

His hand stilled further down the back of her neck, but he was already pulling away before his body realized:

This wasn't what he was wanted.

…because at the same time:

She walked briskly through the courtyard, on her way to somewhere for someone as the usual responsibilities and the like demanded of her.

Along the way, a couple engaged in the whole public display of affection routine sat together on a bench. The girl she could barely place, but the guy was that obnoxious special star in her class, the one who ignored everyone and did nothing and always seemed to be gone half of the time that he was supposed to be there.

The whole scene really irritated her. "Will you two get a room?"

"Jealous?" He seemed to grin at her from behind his sycophant.

"Of you? Never," she shot back.

Who he was, she hardly had a clue. In fact, she didn't have much of an idea as to why she was even talking to him, snippy comments or not. Out of annoyance, perhaps. Wanted to walk somewhere freely without having to see something like that, maybe.

Because suddenly, she wanted to know him beyond the façade she knew he put up all the time. A little more unlikely, but probably not. Maybe even yes.

Why had this thought come to mind?

She shook off the feeling and continued on her path to looming responsibilities and the family that fell on her like a shadow and endless numbers of classmates to push into line, but her mind was already drifting away before she consciously realized:

This wasn't what she wanted.

--l--

Tsubasa never really complained about his lot in life.

To do so was meaningless. He would still be ordered on missions, still bear the weight of his curse mark, still see the stigmata of his scars in the mirror. He would still commit whatever unspeakable acts he could never quite purge from memory, still do nothing that really meant anything at all.

He was dangerous. An enigma. A powerful threat meant to be left alone. Nothing would change what everyone else thought.

But sometimes, the two-dimensionality of his life – ever, so slightly, irritated him.

…it wasn't as if he was the only one:

Misaki never really complained about what she got in life.

To do so was meaningless. She would still have to attend classes, still have to help with everything that was asked of her, still be as talented and happy as she ever was. She would still do everything that she did already, even though one day it wouldn't really mean anything at all.

She was distinguished. An oxymoron. A top student with everything available to her, though she was far from the teacher's pet model that most would expect. Nothing would change how everyone else asked for her assistance, what everyone else thought, what everyone else expected.

But sometimes, the two-dimensionality of her life – ever, so slightly, bothered her.

…& both of them realized:

Something was missing.

--l--

…but all in all, in retrospect:

She wondered why she deigned to notice him.

He wondered why he deigned to respond.

(Somewhere, sometime, both of them wondered why they'd never met at all; was there ever a world where they eased the other's troubles, knew each other's secrets, and helped each other escape?)

He continued towards his destination, as did she, in two different directions that never converged again.

And sometimes, both of them would wonder: what would it have been like, if they'd done this differently, if they'd known different people, if they'd chosen different paths…

…and it could go something like this…

27. overflow

"Oi, Tsubasa!"

"What?"

"When do you want to eat? Six? Seven?"

He blinked, and dropped the box that he'd been in the process of moving upstairs on the kitchen table. Figures that they haven't settled into the house a week after moving in. "We can just go out and grab whatever, so it doesn't really matter, right?"

Silence.

"Misaki?"

She walked into the kitchen, giving him a look. "We've grabbed something from Central Town every night this entire week."

"So?"

"We have a kitchen for a reason, you know."

Eighteen years of not having to worry about such things completely shafted him in times like these, when he didn't have that in-school catering and the like. School hadn't helped him prepare for life at all. "What, you want to cook something?"

"…Are you implying that I can't?"

"Well, no, but – "

"Then that's that."

Nor did those years improve his argumentation skills in any way. But, at least they gave him fair warning of what would happen if he didn't shackle down and listen.

He sighed.

--l--

"So," Tsubasa asked mildly, "why do I have to be the one to cook?"

Misaki gave him a pointed glance.

"…Okay, what's in the fridge?"

--l--

Tono knocked at the door, but was startled when it creaked open. "…Hello?"

"Idiot!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Well, now it's overflowing all over the stove!"

"And what were you doing?"

"Chopping the vegetables, while you were supposed to watch the pot and make sure nothing overboiled!"

"You're making it sound so easy!"

"That's because it is easy!"

"Not when you gave me more to do than just watching the pot!"

Hmm, sounded like a warzone.

And naturally, he'd be the fool rushing in. "Tsubasa, Misaki?"

"Ah, Tono-sempai," Misaki said, with a rather dangerous glint in her over-bright smile.

Tsubasa, meanwhile, looked as though he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or further frustrated. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was going to drop by to see how you were doing for dinner, but maybe I should leave you two to solve your domestic troubles?"

Judging from their similarly murderous expressions, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say after all. Besides, he came for food, not scary looks promising lots of pain. Unlike Tsubasa, he wasn't a masochist before mealtimes. Or any time. Really, he thought that those incidents at the school would have been relegated to the annals of unpleasant memory by now.

He tried again. "Uhm…what do you say we kiss and make up? And, uh," he said quickly, feeling the dangerous atmosphere thicken, "maybe I can help you two with the cooking part a bit?"

The weight that he'd felt pressing mercilessly down on his shoulders seemed to disappear with a pop as Misaki smiled. "Then you two can take care of the rest, right? I hope you don't mind stew, Tono."

"Not a problem," he managed to say.

For some reason, he felt like Tsubasa was sinking into the floor next to him.

--l--

"You know, I always thought that even if you won't become an Iron Chef, at least you'd be able to keep things from exploding," Tono remarked amicably as he dumped in the potatoes.

His kouhai muttered to himself, stirring the broth. He'd only just cleaned up the mess from before.

"Almost like you got distracted…ohhhhh," he said slyly, as Tsubasa continued to focus very, very strongly on stirring. "Looked away for a few moments, didn't you? Too busy watching something else?"

"I can just leave you to take care of the rest."

"And what would Misaki say about that?"

"I'd trust that you wouldn't tell her," he replied with a leveled look.

"Ahaha. Ha."

This really was the most dysfunctional, dangerous house in all of Central Town. And he just had to stop by out of the goodness of his heart.

"Oi, Tsubasa!"

He sighed before heading out of the kitchen. "Be right back."

Tono watched the potatoes boil, and decided that next week, he'd invite them over and save them all the trouble.

Well, if the two of them hadn't blown the place up by then.

28. Wada Calcium CD3

"Tsubasa? Oi, Tsubasa?"

Huh, Misaki thought. She expected him to be in his room, as he'd told her that he had no plans for the day. Perhaps she'd just missed him in passing on the way to the cafeteria?

His bed hadn't been made, the blankets pooled on one side, and a glass of water that she guessed was growing stagnant stood on the bedside table, next to a small bottle of uncapped pills.

Pills?

Curiosity getting the better of her, she walked over and picked it up, rotating it so that she could read the label.

"Wada Calcium."

Huh. That was something that she hadn't seen for a while. Her parents had foisted it on her when she was young, but…

She frowned at the memory. The unwanted memory.

What was Tsubasa doing with this, though? Did he have calcium deficiency? That was unlikely. Did he have a height complex?

Now that would be something, she laughed to herself. How long could he have been taking them? How many were left? She shook the bottle experimentally before looking inside.

And stared.

That wasn't what she expected at all.

"Tsubasa, you… How long have you been hiding this?"

--l--

Five minutes later, he showed up. Though for someone as methodical about these details such as himself, she knew that he'd be back sooner rather than later.

He blinked. "Morning."

She kept her arms crossed, and tilted her head in the direction of the uncapped pill bottle.

Ever so infinitesimally, he paled. Or maybe it was just her imagination.

"How long?" she asked.

"How long what?"

"Have you been taking those."

"Well, maybe for a few months – "

" – or weeks, I mean – "

"So all those times that I couldn't find you, when you said you were just sleeping somewhere or catching up with Tono or evading teachers, you were really in the hospital? All these months?"

He walked over to the bedside table and capped the bottle, then opened the drawer and casually tossed it in before sliding it decisively shut.

"Tsubasa."

He didn't turn around.

"I still saw them, you know. The medication. For the side effects of a degenerative Alice condition, right?"

Still nothing.

"Tsubasa!"

"Well, maybe I hid them the way that I did for a reason, you know?"

"You…what?" She stopped, perplexed.

"Maybe I didn't tell you about all the time I had to spend in the hospital, or the medication that I had to take, or the other times that I wasn't around because of another mission, or that I've been working with Tono for a while, or…" He paused. "Because I've had a reason. Maybe I didn't tell anyone because I had a reason."

His tone, subdued but forceful, made him sound so frayed at the edges, so tired, so old, that she bit her lip.

He turned around, and the indescribable look in his eyes silenced her further. "You deserved not to have to know about things like this."

"What, and then get all of the worry dumped on me in one moment like this?"

"It's none of your business."

Her jaw locked together with a snap.

He stared at her still.

"Fine. Maybe none of this is my business. I guess it was a waste of time worrying for you, those few minutes I spent waiting here wondering just what was wrong. Since you want to be a martyr and all."

He said nothing.

She left.

--l--

"Oi, Tsubasa, you said you were going to meet me at – what's wrong?"

He sat on the bed and stared out the window like he'd been doing for the past few hours, and didn't so much as glance up at the sempai of his who'd just waltzed in on his own. "She knows."

"Knows? How much?"

"Almost everything. Nothing specific, but otherwise, everything."

"Oh, boy." Tono sat down in the chair across from him. "So that's how the conversation went."

"She brought it up, when I left the pills on the table." A bitter pause. "I never wanted her to know."

The whole affair lingered in his mouth like a kiss gone awry; he didn't tell Tono how it still bothered him.

The boy knew anyway, looked away sympathetically and shifted in his seat. "But now that she does, what can you do? You can't just hide yourself from her."

Silence.

"Maybe," he replied.

Since you want to be a martyr echoed in the empty space, and he remembered how her face looked yet again, how her expression...

God, he was beaten.

--l--

"You have to go talk to her," Tono said some time later.

"Why? She shouldn't get involved."

"She was involved the moment that the two of you met," he said with derision. "Stop being an idiot and go talk to her. Without being stupid this time."

He continued to stare out the window.

"I know I'm far better with the female half of the population than you are, but really, Tsubasa."

Staring into the distance was really his thing today.

Tono sighed.

Tsubasa could've sworn that he heard him say "ah, youth" under his breath, but by the time that he turned around with a decisive comeback on the tip of his tongue, he was gone.

Beaten, beaten, beaten.

He took his time in getting up and leaving, but inevitabilities could hardly be delayed.

--l--

"You know, Tsubasa, not like I'm getting into your personal business or anything, but it's nice to be able to have at least one confidante."

"I'm sure you have many of them."

"It's impossible to isolate yourself entirely."

"No wonder you've polished your playboy image."

"Look, has he mentioned her specifically yet?"

"No."

"Implied anything?"

"No."

"Then you're not really endangering her."

"Besides, if they want her, they'll get her themselves. There's nothing you can do. This isn't really protecting her, at all."

"I'm just saying, don't burn all of your bridges. Just think about it."

Just think about it.

--l--

Tsubasa sat down next to her in class, and wasn't really surprised when she turned away to look anywhere else but to her right.

Again, he cursed his moment of careless idiocy.

Since she was most decidedly Not. Talking. To Him, no witty remarks came as he sat back and studied her. The twitch at her temple and the way she scrunched up her lower lip were sort of childish, but sort of saddening. Any other time, and it'd have been amusing – but not now.

He sighed. "Next time I disappear, come visit me in the hospital wing."

A very long pause, though he could feel her surprise.

"Why would I want to do that?"

He shrugged. "If it makes you feel better. Because you'll get storming mad otherwise."

She made a sound of disdain and looked away again, but the twitch was gone, at the very least.

He sighed, a little. Just because.

After class, she was pulling him along again – anywhere but Jinno's class, she muttered – and he thought maybe, just maybe, things could be like they were yesterday again.

Fleetingly. A fleeting thought.

But at the very least, he thought to himself as they turned another corner, maybe things wouldn't have to be so different.

At the very least.

He could live with that.

29. the sound of waves

All I want to do is sleep.

All I want to do…is sleep.

--l--

"Good morning," Tsubasa hears. But when he opens his eyes, nobody's there.

He's lying on a beach chair, and the shadow of a large umbrella falls on him as he stirs. But even if it wasn't there, he wouldn't be roasting in the afternoon sun anyway – on the contrary, the temperature's just perfect, and he's in no danger of getting a sunburn. The sun's barely risen, wisps of yellow-white slowly leaking into the sky. He can smell sea salt as he breathes in; he can see the ocean as he looks out.

The first thought that assails his mind is: this is perfect.

It's not until later that he wonders, why is he here?

The soft crash of the waves is his only answer.

--l--

Wake up.

--l--

After what must be hours, Tsubasa realizes – he's all alone.

The beach is deserted. Desolate. There are no children playing on the sandy shores, no crabs scuttling along the surf. He feels that gentle ocean breeze ruffle his hair from time to time and the now mid-morning sun's warm against his face, but other than that, it feels like nothing here is moving at all. Like this is a perfect moment caught in time, frozen forever.

Lifeless.

But, he thinks, as he watches the sunlight bounce off of the water and shimmer in the sky, it's still such a perfect moment. And there's nowhere else he can think of at the moment that he'd rather rest at, except here.

(all alone)

(but so content)

What would it be like, he muses before he drifts off again, to touch the ocean?

--l--

You idiot! Wake up!

--l--

(she's calling for you)

(why won't you answer her)

But again, when he opens his eyes, nobody's there.

(desolate, all alone)

It's starting to be somewhat discomfiting, the soundless crash of the waves, the white in the sky, the blue on the sea – but the sun glimmers on the surface of the water again and the breeze kisses his face and nothing's wrong.

What was wrong? What made him feel that way a moment ago?

The thought drifts away somewhere over the horizon, and he slowly drifts off as well, thinking for a moment that he'd like something to drink.

--l--

Why can't you see that this is what I want? Why can't you just leave me in peace?

--l--

When he awakes this time, he thinks that he can hear someone laughing far away in the distance.

There's a little white table at his side now with a glass sitting on top of it. He picks it up – why does his arm feel like lead, like he's too slothful to even move – and downs it, cool liquid something seeping through his veins and calming him, before he feels warm again.

He sets the glass back down just before his arm falls down to his side like a weight dropping, but doesn't feel any alarm, panic.

All he feels – is relaxed.

All he wants to feel – is like this.

You see? There's nothing wrong with –

But the words die before he even says them, as he realizes what gave him that strange feeling of displacement a while back. Or maybe it was a few minutes; things seem to feel like an eternity here.

Only, an eternity is nothing without someone else there.

Who, though? He likes this peace and quiet, this open-air atmosphere and shoreline stretching for miles. That obnoxious sempai with long hair would soon drive him insane here. He doesn't care for most of his classmates. His teachers – almost all of them, and especially one in particular – are anathema. His family…

(never)

…out of the question.

Surely there's someone?

(pink hair, warm eyes - )

Of course not. That's a joke. He's spent so long making sure that no one would get close that it wouldn't make any sense.

He doesn't need anyone. He doesn't want anyone.

Tsubasa continues to stare off into the distance, letting himself absorb the saltine smell and the aquamarine hues.

Paradise is what you make of it, after all.

(and this is. paradise.)

--l--

Please, Tsubasa. Just wake up. You don't understand what it means if you…if you don't wake up.

--l--

"Is there something wrong?"

He shudders awake to a blazing yellow sun sinking into the sea. How many times has he fallen asleep? This whole place is starting to feel so strange. Surreal.

Not quite right.

(but still so peaceful, so eternally peaceful)

"There's nothing wrong," he replies without thinking. "Just…thought I heard someone."

A laugh. "That's not possible. You're the only one here for miles."

"And you?"

"Here with you, of course. Just me."

He frowns. The voice – female – is coming from behind him, but he can't see who it is. And he can't muster up the energy or the effort to move, as though his limbs have given up and atrophied long ago.

(even if her voice is echoing in his ear, god it sounds so familiar)

"It doesn't matter," she sharply comments.

"What doesn't?"

He hears soft, quick footsteps on the sand. "Everything. Nothing. Take your pick."

Tsubasa has to crane his neck to see her as she walks forward, and barely gets a glimpse of her face before she's several meters in front of him and all he can see is her back. Her white dress brushes against the sand, and her hair looks almost brown-gold, sun-kissed with the tint of the sunset.

He swallows, but whatever's caught in his throat won't go down.

Are you –

"Relax, Tsubasa," she said, smiling. "Enjoy the view of the sunset – one like this only comes around once in a long while."

"Even in a place like this?"

"Even in a place like this."

And she's right. The way the colors bleed across the sky is mesmerizing, like a purple-orange-blue kaleidoscope of color that he can't tear his eyes away from. He could stare away like this all day…

(it's like he's caught in an enchantment…)

Something flutters into his line of vision – strands of this woman's long hair, silver-gold-brown – and the spell is broken, though the longing remains.

"Wasn't I right?"

"Maybe you were," he mumbles.

She slowly starts to turn around, dress billowing gently in the breeze, but before he can muster up the energy to see, everything goes warm and hazy dark.

"Just rest a while for now…"

--l--

You don't understand.

Of course I do. You're an idiot for doing this. This isn't what you really want.

What I want? What I want is…

--l--

This time, the sun is almost gone, with the first breaths of twilight slowly starting to creep up on him.

For a moment, he thinks he feels cold, but the chill passes so swiftly that he isn't sure the temperature ever dropped at all.

"Even at this time of day the scenery's beautiful, you know."

He reflexively tenses up, even as the atmosphere wills him to relax.

"What, Tsubasa?" she asks, standing where the shore meets the sea, with her back turned to him and her dress still fluttering around her feet.

"N…nothing. You just startled me. I didn't think you'd still be here."

"Hm."

She spins around then, so fluidly that it's almost like she's floating on the waves. And he can't help but gasp.

"Have you missed me? Tsubasa."

The dying rays still give her a bit of a glow, but her hair's back to its usual dark shade, her skin still pale and her eyes still deep and her smile all exactly as he remembers.

(he remembers.)

He says nothing.

She takes several steps towards where he sits, smiles down at him against the backdrop of the sun. "And that's how you greet your mother? After all these years?"

(your mother.)

The beach is still so relaxing, so warm, so inviting, but a thrill goes up his spine anyway. Like a warning.

Don't get caught. Don't get caught.

He feels something icy cold coursing through his veins again, and blanches, almost wishing for the lull of that afternoon drink to wash it away again. Almost, until the warning echoes again and it's all he can do to focus on the sky.

"But it's okay. We have so much time to talk. So much time."

"We do?"

She smiles again; the ice pricks his fingers and he slowly starts to curl them, slowly gets them to move again.

"You'll stay here with me forever, won't you?"

(forever's such a long time)

"We can live happily like we've always wanted. Freely, out here. You've felt it, right? Everything here's so soothing, it's like paradise. It's something we never dreamed of."

Paradise is where you choose it.

Her words pour out faster and faster, a bubbling lullaby that dulls the cold in his hands and causes his eyelids to droop again. And when he wakes up the next time, judging by the progression of the sun, it would be…

"We can forget everything else. You don't have to use your Alice any more. You don't have to remember the academy ever again."

Tsubasa! Please!

His eyes snap open. "Why did you have to bring that up? Why did you have to?"

She takes in a sharp breath, staring at him.

He looks down and realizes that he's standing upright, free of the chair.

(you could throw all of this away)

(you would throw all of this away)

Almost immediately, it's as though the temperature drops to absolute zero, the sea breeze now a chilling wind, and he collapses on the sand.

"Oh, Tsubasa." She kneels down next to him, tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear, and he leans into the touch. "Why did you have to do that? We only have until nightfall…"

"But I thought you said that this would be forever," he grits out.

She smiles sadly at him. "But don't you see? You have to choose. Do you want to stay here?

- or do you want to go back?

Over her shoulder, he can see the tide slowly creeping up on them, the darkened stretch of sand reaching far past where she'd stood moments ago.

"I hate it there," he whispers. "I never wanted to go."

"I never wanted to send you. But I didn't have a choice." She pauses, and her smile could break his heart with its fragility. "Now, though, we do have a choice. Here, you won't have to do the things they force you to do."

(you can relax, sit and watch the waves soundlessly crash)

The water is only a few feet away from them, now, and it's only getting colder.

Paradise is where you choose it.

Instinctively, he knows that the cold, the pain – that they'll all go away if he stays. That he'll feel that serenity again, the loss of which is already gnawing at him like a dull throb alongside the icy ache.

So why can't he say yes?

You promised. You promised that you'd make it back. Idiot, I knew you always break your promises…

"I can't."

Something flickers in her eyes; what, he doesn't know. But now he can't stop here, no matter how much it pulls at him.

"I don't know why, but I can't. I can't do this. I can't stay here."

She whispers so softly, like a gust of summer. "Does it feel that wrong, staying here with me?"

He feels as though his heart could shatter. "I just…can't explain it."

This is not the paradise that I would choose.

And suddenly, she pulls him tightly into a hug, and his body's unsure of whether to curl into her warmth or to freeze jaggedly from the pain in his chest. "I miss you still. But all along," and his eyes widen as he feels something wet against his collar, "I knew that this would happen. Even if you don't want to go back, you've always been a fighter. Always."

The tide is slowly seeping into her dress, staining it darkly. And he instinctively realizes: he doesn't have much time.

His voice starts to crack. "I'm sorry, mother, so sorry…"

She lets go of him, and pain shoots through his abdomen. "You still won't stay?"

The look in her eyes threatens to undo him, but he can't look away, can't ever look away. And the rocks in the distance are suddenly looming and the sky is almost completely blue-dark-black and the quiet buzz has erupted into a roaring storm, and like that, everything changes.

(are you sure this is right? you know this is not right. she would never wish you harm like this, never wish you pain)

The seawater soaks through his clothes in a rush, and the smell of salt is overpowering.

"You've made your choice. Good luck."

A tear slides down her face, followed by another.

The water envelopes him completely, and he slips into the tide.

--l--

No one can sleep like the death the way you do.

But don't you think that this much is enough?

--l--

Nostalgia for that beach hits him before he even opens his eyes. Already, he's realized what he's irrevocably lost.

Perhaps it is a dream. Perhaps it was a dream.

(perhaps he's just a fool.)

He's lying on a hospital bed, and he can feel tight, constricting bandages around his lower body. There's a dull ache thudding in his head, and his arms feel as leaden as they did over there.

What hits him first: he misses that place. (He misses her.)

What hits him next: he left her behind, for this. (Even if it wasn't real, wasn't right?)

"You're finally awake."

He blinks as an angry Misaki looks down at him.

"Do you know how long you've been asleep? We weren't sure if you were ever going to wake up!" She looks as though she'd do something violent and probably painful, but then a shadow passes over her face and she changes her mind.

Don't hurt the injured guy any more, he thinks weakly, but makes a noncommittal sort of sound.

"Do you remember anything?"

The smell of the sea, the ocean breeze, the white of her dress…

"The curse mark. He's…they're going to reprimand him for this, because this time it was too much. He could've killed you."

Tsubasa vaguely starts to remember. He'd botched up the mission, gotten injured, and then…his head hurt just thinking about the pain that the curse seal – that bastard – put him through. "So I passed out from the shock, is that it?"

She doesn't say anything, but he feels like her anger's abated…slightly.

I had a dream, he wants to say. That I could make a choice. But it sounds ludicrous even as he thinks it, and he's not stupid enough not to know what the other choice would've meant. In the end, it probably wasn't…really as good as it seemed.

(and there was his mother, but it'd been forever since her hair was that long, and an eternity since her voice was so soft and her smile so gentle, and…lies, lies, lies, all lies, everything's always a lie.)

Metaphors are ridiculous, he thinks darkly to himself.

"Tsubasa!"

"What?!" he shouts in response, startled. Why did he ask her to visit him, again?

"Just…" Her expression's softened. "Don't do something so stupid again. Well, so soon. I know you'll do something that stupid again. So be careful."

Should I just tell him not to activate the curse mark next time, tell them that I refuse to go on another mission? he thinks. Because I'm sure they'll listen to me.

But what he says softly is, "Right."

"I'm going to get the nurses. And Tono's going to come by in an hour like he usually does." And with that, she brusquely leaves the room.

He isn't sure what to think. About her, about this – how long was he asleep? – about anything. In fact, he feels like he's missing something. Like a huge revelation, a turning point, a realization.

(like sand under his nails and feathers in the sky)

(like mothers moving forward and children left behind)

He'll settle for the fact that dreams don't make much sense, and that while this life isn't paradise, for now he'd rather stay all the same.

(Paradise is where you choose it.)

He'd made the right decision, hadn't he. For whatever reason.

For whatever reason.

The stark white of the ceiling, and not the charmed blue of that sky, is reassurance enough.

30. kiss

Tsubasa knew that he couldn't evade Misaki for long, considering.

But it didn't stop him from trying.

Okay, he just needed to figure something out. The fact that the days after the dance were free of classes definitely helped, but still. Just something that would keep her from killing him at any time in the next few…well, years. Something really effective and not stupid and not –

"Tsubasa!"

He jumped backwards, straight into the rather hard wall. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to do that to kiss you and stuff and then I kept avoiding you 'cause I didn't want you to kill me and. I'm sorry?"

…Well, that didn't go according to plan at all. He wanted to hit his head repeatedly against the wall really, really hard, and did he mention repeatedly? He probably didn't mention repeatedly enough, really. Or the sorry to her face. Yeah, he probably didn't apologize well enough. And he was probably going to die now.

Overall, it had somewhat been a good life sometimes, at least?

"Tsubasa, shut up."

"Uhm."

"You could've just…said something earlier."

He looked at her, flabbergasted.

And distinctly thought that suddenly, she was about to kiss him, judging from that look in her eye – not that he'd ever been a good judge of her behavior or moods, since this could also mean that she was going to throttle him in a second, but –

"Tsubasa-sempai, Misaki-sempai?"

Damnit, or oh god I'm saved? Sometimes his imagination led him on wild tangents and he was really becoming quite paranoid, and could he get away with blaming it all on Misaki?

In the meantime, Mikan had wandered onto the path, alone and looking more than a little preoccupied. Almost like she was off in another world of thoughts and just stumbled here on reflex.

"Mikan-chan, what are you doing out here? Where's everyone else?"

At that last part, the girl turned red enough that he thought now was a great time for that mind reader kid to walk by.

"Ahhh, why don't we go take a walk, then?" Misaki asked abruptly. "Have some lunch, something like that."

Their kouhai nodded fiercely in reply. So fiercely that he thought she might damage her spinal cord. What had happened with her and her group at the dance that night, anyway? He'd never asked.

"Mikan-chan, why don't you go ahead of us for a moment? We'll catch up."

As the little girl ran off ("Oh, maybe I can find Tono-sempai and ask him to come with us too! But when I last saw him, he was with all of those girls…"), Misaki turned back to him.

"…Ah?"

She smiled at him. And not even a doomsday smile, but a real smile smile.

"…," he managed to say.

"I…I don't know. Just don't be an idiot about this, all right?"

And she was smiling at him, and coherent thought went out the window. "Uhm. Yeah, okay. Sure."

Yeah, definitely sure.

"Come on, Mikan-chan's waiting for us," she said brightly before grabbing his wrist and tugging him off after their friend, though he wasn't too aware of what was going on. Really, all he knew at the moment was that she hadn't beaten him up to kingdom come, that nothing had exploded, and that she'd smiled at him.

Not bad at all, since almost all of the scenarios running around in his head said that things would go a bit worse than this. A bit being an understatement.

Everything that was sure to come afterwards could wait, because yeah, he wanted to let this moment sink in.

For the other things, there was time left still.

--l--

Four months, but 6,600 words. I can't believe this is 6,600 words. Themes-wise, 28 and 29 were way back in the sort of timeline for this thing, if the characterization I used showed anything. I should probably make an official timeline as all of these except for 22 and 26 fit in one general universe, but I'm lazy, and forget it, interpret as you wish. And 30 was crap, I wish this whole thing ended with 29 – that's my favorite, easily.

So. It's done. A year and two months and my romance is clichéd crap but it's done, done, done, holy crap I torture myself when it comes to themes challenges but this is done.

:D

Forgive my writing, though I think it's improved at this point. And how I completely screwed with canon for these two, though come on, dark and angsty. And how I completely made up fanon for them, and how some of my premises are borderline ridiculous, and anyway, it's done.

Dex (Aliora) is the most amazing beta ever. Thanks to her for putting up with my ceaseless moaning and grumbling, and to everyone who actually stuck with this the entire way and left encouraging reviews. Hope you'll tell me what you think about the final installments, and thanks again!