Repent to the Sky - No one is free of blame, yet there's only one being prosecuted today.

Repent! Repent!

Do the people screaming at her from the crowds, the ones watching the witch sentenced to death by flames, do they know their sins? That their deeds are just as damning as the pink-haired witch's? At least she knows that witchcraft is something that can be good or bad, but does the crowd not take advantage of the name of God? Take advantage of everything and pretend it is all holy and good?

They cry at her, repent, repent, but they say she has lost her way, that death is upon them all, and then what good will repenting do, following the advice of hypocritical ignoramuses when she will die, when they are sinners as well?

Repent! Repent!

The priestess cries those words, knowing her friend is hurt by the turn of events, and that hurts her too, because he is a friend, and a pain of a friend is her pain to bear as well.

She seeks for forgiveness within, begging for it to someone, anyone, for she has destroyed that precious happiness of the prince forever, but it was her duty to protect others from the taint of witchcraft. For the good of others, the witch had to be cleansed from the world.

The prince and his face, contorted in pain, tells her that this excuse will not comfort his shattered heart at all. All she can do is cry for all to repent, for who is pure, and free from the stain of sin here?

Repent! Repent!

His tears ran out so long ago; or at least, that was what he had thought, but the sight of that woman, that damned woman who had magicked his heart away from him, fresh tears began to well in his eyes. Why couldn't she have removed such black magic from him? To make him suffer?

If that was her intention, it certainly was working. His heart is tired from sustaining itself when it is broken, and he is devoid of any energy or life. He'd been betrayed, by someone he had been ready to give up everything for.

He refuses to consider the other possibility, that he had actually fallen in love with a witch without her using magic on him, because that would make him hopeful, and crushed all over again, because the odds would be even worse against him, and the second pain would hurt just too much for him to bear with the scattered pieces of a broken heart, and so he holds his tongue and instead reaches for the flames with a heavy hand.

Repent! Repent!

The witch. Her. The lover of the prince. Her.

She is tied to the cross on a pile of wood soaked in oil, and she sees the flaming torch ready to swallow her as soon as he lays those fiery tongues across her footsteps.

Tears run down her face, her short hair barely tickles her ears, and her thin, ragged dress is fluttering in the cold, merciless wind, but she only sees the fire, hears the cries of the gathered chanting, jeering hypocrites, and the anger, the sorrow within her explodes at last when she sees his face, sorrowful and determined.

"What do you know about repenting?!"

And before they can roar the plea for her death, her wings shoot out, battering everyone near her with fierce winds as the feathers cut away her binding ropes, and then she is free of any obligations, free to leave as she will.

Her only repent, her regret, is that she fell in love knowing witches didn't get happy endings, and never got her heart back.

Repent! Repent!

I'm sure you could tell, but this was based on the song 'Witch'. In this fic thing, Miku is sad because she has to report Luka being a witch, even if that means she's going to ruin the happiness of her friend. So she is not a jealous bitch, 'kay? I own nothing.