A/N: Before anyone asks, there is no file 8, and no sequel. I only spent a couple days on this fic, so I might edit it a little to smooth out rushed sections, but otherwise it's done. You want more, you write it yourself.

File 7

"No."

"You haven't even heard the rest yet."

"We've already practically rebuilt the Black Org in the name of finding contacts to stop it. I refuse to be a part of something like that again."

"We can change it. We didn't build a squad of loyal assassins, we built a network of information and shipping routes. We can ship other things. Aid. Peace troops. There is so much good we can do. Don't turn your back on it."

She spun to face him, and he winced at her expression.

"Maybe the Boss thought that way too, at first."

"Then we just need to not lose ourselves the way he did."

"We can't guarantee that! How long can you go without thinking of Ran? A week? A day? A minute? How long can you go without wishing she was alive? How long can you go without trying to bring her back?"

He understood the look on her face at last.

Not anger. Loss.

"You think I'll break, then?" His voice was harsh, and she winced in turn and found the hotel carpet fascinating; but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. "Or maybe you think you will. For who? Agasa?"

"You."

He breathed what might have been a laugh, in other circumstances. "And I, you. Then we just need to be very, very careful, right?"

An eyebrow told him her opinion of that plan.

"We can do this," he continued anyway. "We'll be okay. We have enough time. We can figure out how to-"

"Raise each other," she inserted flatly.

This time he outright flinched.

A tense silence.

"...No," he whispered at last. And then, stronger: "No. We'll have failsafes to guarantee that that's the end. We won't try to bring anyone back. We'll keep going until we fall, or we find a way to lay our friends to rest, finally. Properly. Not in the dirt, but inside. Or can you stay like this forever?"

Faint light made the shadows deeper. She closed her eyes. "I...hadn't intended to."

"You would've left?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Coward."

"Yes."

For a while they drowned separately in silence.

"Help me," someone whispered. "to live again."