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Mizuri didn’t know what to do. Kaoru was finally in her arms, in her arms, but he was on his last few seconds. Any moment, any sudden change in the atmosphere, and the thin rope still connecting him to the world of the living might finally be severed.

She’d chased him to the corners of the world; back when they were still students, back when they were both soldiers in the army, fighting the unknown entities that appeared occasionally on the otherwise-peaceful world.

Back when he’d been interested in another woman. Back when Mizuri had found out about her background.

Back when they regularly fought, Mizuri trying to pry the woman away from him, Kaoru trying to defend the woman.

He hadn’t known. The woman was an even more powerful master of the Mind than he was. And she basically had him dancing around her little finger. Mizuri was somehow immune to control by such masters, and she had noticed that something was wrong just moments after she had delved into the woman’s background.

She was someone who sucked her partners dry, someone who preyed on “strong” men. She’d make them fall in love with her, which wasn’t exactly difficult. Then she’s suck their energy dry, until after only two months or so, they’d die, or be so close to death that conventional healing magic wouldn’t be able to make a dent in their conditions. Then she’d move on to another partner and repeat the pattern.

Kaoru was her longest engagement yet, and somehow Mizuri knew that there was a thread, a fiber of Kaoru’s being, that the woman couldn’t control. Some part of him that belonged to someone else.

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He’d told her as much, years later, in a bout with himself, when the woman had finally decided that she was going to end it in one blow.

Mizuri and Kaoru had managed to defeat her, but only barely. And Kaoru was going to die.

“Hey,” he said.

Mizuri held him even closer, finally letting the tears run.

“Hey.”

She had two choices, the first being cutting her own rope at the same time as his. She could do that. She was, after all, a master of Fate. Or she could let him forget her in his last moments. He could do that. He was a master of the Mind. And he’d do anything she asked now. After all, he owed her one. He wouldn’t go back on that even at death’s door.

He wiped her tears with his jacket sleeve. “The second one, Mizuri.”

Of course he’d know what she was thinking.

“But on one condition. You forget me as well.”

She smiled, and let him go.

“Find me, will you?” He knew his mind control didn’t work on her, even if he was in good condition. But he couldn’t blame himself for trying. By choosing the second option, he had succeeded in lifting some of Mizuri’s potential pain, but the rest of her pain he still couldn’t imagine.

He only saw glimpses of her pain, when her unconscious defenses weakened ever so slightly sometimes, and even then he hadn’t known if he could bear it.

He was sure that if he ever had to shoulder that much pain, he’d break in a moment.

Then again, he knew that life wasn’t so unfair that it would dump more than Mizuri could handle on her. So he had had one last request for her, and smiled, knowing he had said it aloud.

He erased his own mind, hesitating a bit when a memory of Mizuri’s smile came up, but he fought himself, relieved when he found he could still win.

It’s for her. He mentally waved goodbye to the image, then smiled one last time, knowing that someday, somewhere, he’d see that smile again, and he’d fall in love with it once more.

He finally left, and Mizuri hunched over the empty body, whispering into his ears so softly that even if he were there, he wouldn’t have heard.

“I could never forget you, idiot.”

And I promise, I’m coming to find you.