Taiyo couldn’t hear Miss Tsujihara’s voice anymore—or at least, she wouldn’t respond if he tried to talk to talk to her. The night before, he dreamt about her apologizing, and then the rest of the night slipped away into darkness. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a dreamless sleep.

That…worried him, to say the least. The peace that he felt during that first night returned, and the rest of him desperately feared that peace. Miss Tsujihara once told him that, over time, her voices grew louder until she feared raising her blade against her children; that’s when she ended her own life.

The fear that the same was happening to him led him to fight, even if Kyoumi didn’t want him to. He knew he could reduce Gin’s casualties as long as he stayed on Kuro’s side of the battle—he went out, killed whoever he could that wore Kuro’s colors, then went back to camp and cleaned up before anyone saw him.

Considering that he could only partially hear his own thoughts, Taiyo didn’t think he could do that for much longer. He wasn’t like Rei and Kyoumi—he didn’t usually consider his death, how it would affect his family, how it might happen—but he found himself amongst dark thoughts. Or…were those things really the best option, considering what he might do otherwise?

Taiyo knew Rei worried about him; he didn’t talk as much because it couldn’t quite drown out the voices anymore. He wanted to take some time to think about it, too—then, if he did follow in Miss Tsujihara’s footsteps, it might not be as jarring. He could only ever remember one person in his life dying—Masaru, Sorai’s father, when the twins were six—but Taiyo and Rei were so young that his reaction then might not be the same as it would be now. Knowing Rei dealt with troubling thoughts while Taiyo was gone didn’t assure him. He didn’t want his brother to die alongside him, realizing that Kyoumi could very well follow them.

He came to a decision by the time Kyoumi announced the battle would start in an hour or two; the Kuro royal family was in a corner, and it wouldn’t take much to pull them out of it. Kasper was with Roken and the Sólstaðuric forces, who would go in differently than Gin’s army; that left Taiyo alone with Rei while the latter waited for Gin to move out.

“Looks like everyone’s about ready,” Rei noted. He glanced at Taiyo and frowned. “Worried?”

Taiyo looked down, the voices louder than they usually were. “…Probably not the same thing everyone else is thinking about.”

“There might be enough time before the battle, if you want to share,” Rei offered. “You’ve been really quiet lately—I’ll be honest, it’s a little weird.”

He didn’t know if Rei trying to be nice was reassuring or discouraging. He’ll hate you for this, the voices said. He’ll hate you for what you’ve done, and what you will do.

Still, Taiyo didn’t want Rei to go out there without knowing why he probably won’t be here when Rei comes back.

“…You know those stories, about Tsujihara Seiko?” Taiyo asked, looking up at Rei for a second. “The ones that the Masaaki family has—where she wasn’t entirely sane.”

Rei glanced around, probably to make sure no one would need him, then sat down. “What about them?”

“…They’re real.” He winced, the voices screaming at him—he’ll hate you, he’ll hate you—but he carried on. He didn’t care if Rei hated him; he just wanted his brother to know the truth. “Ginshin was told that his country would be cursed; that one of his descendants would be the person to end both Gin and Kuro. There were people like Tsujihara Seiko who heard voices—”

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He paused when he heard the first few sounds of battle a little ways away; Kuro must have noticed one of the forces and decided to engage. Both twins stood, but Taiyo caught Rei’s arm before he could walk away.

“I need to go,” Rei said. “We can talk more when the battle’s over.”

“No, we can’t, because I need to go, too,” Taiyo replied firmly. “Listen—I’m going out there to fight again. If I start attacking anyone on our side, I need you to stop me. I’ll try to keep it under wraps, but once you’re there I should be able to think clearly enough to end it.”

“I don’t understand,” Rei said, frowning. He tugged his arm back, reaching to pick up his sword nearby. “What are you trying to ask me to do?”

“Just walk up to me,” Taiyo insisted. “That’s all you will have to do.”

The swords in the distance grew a bit louder, but not necessarily closer—his time was up. Without another word towards Rei, Taiyo left to get ready for battle himself.

He could only partially control himself. The fear of hurting his family managed to keep the voices at bay—in addition to a few scratches so the pain can dull them—until he got behind enemy lines. From there, he just let his voices do whatever they wanted.

It must’ve taken a few hours; Taiyo knew he managed to get to Kuro’s royal family. Thanks to a little bout of hearing his own thoughts, he didn’t kill Miss Yanami and the youngest two kids. Those were probably the only lives he spared.

At some point, Kuro’s forces started to flee or were dying—Sólstaður had brought in enough reinforcements that the black kingdom’s soldiers were outnumbered, even if it wasn’t by much. Taiyo ended up killing a few of Gin and Sólstaður’s soldiers in response, the voices never letting him pause to think about it.

When Taiyo noticed Rei, he quickly decided it was purely coincidental; Kuro’s forces were thinning enough that it wasn’t as much of a risk to have him out closer to the front. Rei frowned as soon as he saw him, taking advantage of the lull in serious fighting to come close enough to hear.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Rei warned. He sounded concerned—and rightly so. Taiyo’s actions were catching up with him; the voices weren’t backing down when he focused on the pain anymore. He couldn’t risk going back to fighting.

Regardless, Taiyo more-or-less ignored his brother. “I’m a little bloody, aren’t I? I don’t really want to look. It makes the migraines worse.”

“Go back to camp,” Rei insisted.

“What if I’ve killed allies?”

“I… I don’t care, Taiyo. Go back. Like I said before, we can talk once the battle’s over.”

Taiyo sighed. “Could you turn around, please? I don’t want you to see this.”

Rei frowned, grabbing Taiyo’s hand—but not the one that held his sword. “I’ll take you back if I have to,” he maintained.

The voices made the action for him—something like a flick of the wrist, and Taiyo’s sword ran across Rei’s leg. Between the shock and the pain, Rei fell with a little curse. At least now, he wasn’t looking.

Mustering his own thoughts—trying to avoid the voices and their protests, their screams of You’re just like her—he managed to drive the sword through his stomach. It would give him enough time to muster final words.

Rei looked up as soon as the deed was done. Taiyo wished he didn’t have to see that look of panic—he could imagine that Rei forgot his own injury at that point.

“Dammit, Taiyo,” Rei muttered. He moved a little closer, as best as he could. They were far enough away from the others that it probably just looked like a normal soldier’s farewell instead of suicide. “Why the hell did you come back if you were just going to leave again?”

“I guess…” The words were harder to form—harder to say—than he thought. He expected it to take a few minutes, but maybe he overestimated the time he’d have. Still, he tried to carry on. “I guess I just…wanted to actually say goodbye this time.”

“Dammit.” What a delicate way to put this. Rei tried to stand to get help—or even just their parents—but his wound didn’t seem to let him. He fell back down immediately.

Rei glanced back at Taiyo, scared now. Taiyo couldn’t recall seeing his brother scared before. Was that how his death would be seen? Frightening? That’s all right; Taiyo himself was frightening.

After a second, Rei gently dragged Taiyo over to the wall, then sat down next to him.

“…I’ll stay here with you,” Rei decided quietly, still sounding reluctant to accept it.

“Just…don’t join me, okay?” Taiyo asked. His thoughts were slipping away naturally as the pain and blood loss caught up to him.

Rei sighed. “I make no promises, little brother.”

Those last few seconds, Taiyo couldn’t hear anything—he couldn’t feel anything, either. A second before the world was lost, however, he heard someone’s voice:

Ginshin and Kurokami’s folly will end here. You never should have needed to end their feud yourself.