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a step away

Summary:

Massive spoilers for the final scene of chapter 5.

It never had to be forever. Everything came to an end; it was what they made of the time they were given that mattered.

M had known that all along.

(Two interlinking scenes. M, and N, and the inherent toxicity of what they have become. Mio, and Noah, and the inherent hope of the future to come.)

Notes:

MASSIVE SPOILERS HUGE HONKING SPOILERS TURN BACK NOW ETC ETC.
mild tw for vague suicide ideation from M. it's nothing huge but it's def there so please keep it in mind

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

On the edge of Hope’s Rest, a woman stood, staring down at her own palms. They were the same hands that she’d always known, those which she used to wield her weapons, to hold her loved ones, to take the lives of those who’d never deserved it. The creases were the same, the nails the right length, the callouses formed, yet still she found that she didn’t recognise them.

It was quiet on the cliff’s edge. The stars rattled in the night sky when she looked up to them with tears in her eyes. The sea wind was bitter against her cheeks. She took a breath. Another. Tried to clear her mind, even as footsteps behind her signalled that she was no longer alone.

“M,” called out that familiar voice, cool and collected and enough to make her heart skip over its rhythm now. “What are you doing out here?”

Part of her wanted to turn, to look for the man she loved. She didn't, because she would only be disappointed in what she found. What stood behind her was a ghost, a shadow, a single fragment of a fractured being. She dropped her hands to her side, closed her eyes, and exhaled. What could she tell him? I thought about throwing myself to the rocks, but even that wouldn’t free me from this wretched existence.

Of course not. He would shatter like glass, catching her on the shards.

“Don’t you think it’s beautiful, N?” she asked instead. His true name sat heavy in her throat, unbidden, because his glass heart was too dangerous to go about breaking intentionally. “The night sky?”

She heard him move, felt his presence as he took his place at her side. She cast her gaze sidewards to catch him in her peripheral vision, her stomach turning at the sight. As always, his hair was astray across his face, his eyes shadowed and empty, a far cry from how she remembered him. His smile had once been enough to light her day. If she’d been a Flame Clock, that one sight would have filled her to the brim.

“It is,” he said, “But I could name something more so.”

Her breath caught. Heat burned in her chest. “Really now? And what would that be?”

“Who else, but you?”

It felt empty. A reminder of everything that had gone wrong. Such wonderous words spoken with beautiful intent, and yet their very predicament twisted it beyond all recognition. M couldn’t bear to look at him, so she turned her sight back to the sea. “That’s a bold claim.”

“But the truth,” N insisted. He moved closer, shoulder armour clinking as it made contact with hers. “Were you really here for something so trivial as the sky?”

The sea crashed against the rocks below. She imagined herself broken on them, as if that would work. As if that would free her of an eternity draining the lives of others just to perpetuate her own ruinous existence. “It only comes once a day. I have to enjoy it when I can.”

“If only we could freeze it in place,” N said. “Wouldn’t you like that, M? Stopping the clocks on more than just us. Maybe it can be done. We can keep those stars in their place, just so you can look at them whenever you want.”

Of course. She shouldn’t have expected anything less from him, he who had already traded his future for his past, he who had slain their joint flesh and blood in the pursuit of forever. He’d taken the promise of what was to come and rent it in two with his own blade, uncaring for what she’d wanted.

“No,” she said, firm, insistent. “They’re all the more beautiful because they’re fleeting. If I could see them whenever I wanted, then…it wouldn’t be special anymore.”

N seemed to consider her words. He tilted his head, leant his hand on the hilt of his sword. After a moment, he said, “I see you constantly, yet you’re still the brightest star in my sky, M.”

It was a cruel reality, M thought. N was beside her. Should she want to, she could turn and embrace him, kiss him, grasp his hand. He was right there, and yet she couldn’t reach him. When he only ever heard what he wanted to hear, there was nothing left that she could do.

Call me Mio, she begged silently. Let me call out to you in turn. Let my words reach you. Just once, I wish I could make you understand.

But he wouldn’t. He’d slain some part of himself that day in the City, had taken a blade to whatever was left of Noah just so he could live with himself and what he’d done. She knew better than anyone; she heard how he sought justification in every question he posed, how he desperately tried to convince himself that he’d been in the right that day. The man left behind was not the one she’d known. Not the one she’d gone to the Flame Clock and back with, not the man she’d lain with and given all herself to.

He would never listen to her again, so in hideous irony she played her part as Consul M to perfection. Moebius used the people of the world as chess pieces, but even now, her and N hadn’t escaped the board. They were actors on stage, playing out this love long turned toxic. She smiled in the right places, he said the right words, and maybe sometimes, her heart beat a little faster, maybe she saw a glimpse of someone she might once have adored, and it was that simple truth that wounded her far deeply than anything else.

Her mind was made up. Throwing herself to the rocks wouldn’t work, but she knew of a true way out. A way to simultaneously give her life to someone who truly deserved it, a way to make N understand when words were no longer enough. It would be a delicate game, though. One false move, and she would lose everything. N would never concede a defeat so easily again.

“I love you,” N said, soft, gentle. He reached for her, took a lock of her hair in his hand, smiled. “I love you so much.”

She didn’t doubt that. But just as he could not understand her, she could no longer comprehend him. Those three words were so simple, yet so complex, a thousand different emotions hidden within them.

Knowing he would miss the meaning, she covered his hand with her own, echoed those words back to him with a a smile on her face. “I love you too.” I’ll show you the way. I’ll find a way to reach you. I’ll see you on the other side.

She could only hope that in finally leaving, she’d kill the regret that had become of them.

 

~x~

 

People drifted in and out of castle, Agnian soldiers with no Flame Clock binding them, Lost Numbers reuniting with old family and friends who’d been imprisoned for years. Mio stepped past them all, one hand brushing through her newly short hair, partly relieved that the weight was gone, partly guilty for having altered that which she felt was not entirely hers. It had been her own decision to cut it off in the end. It had to be.

Where did M end and Mio begin? It was a question that had weighed heavy on her mind since they had first enacted this plot, since she’d inhabited all those memories that M willingly shared. Those faded experiences were now hers, for better or worse. And it was those experiences that had driven her through the castle, all in search of one person.

She found the others, each taking comfort in the presence of each other. Taion and Eunie sharing tea, Lanz and Sena taking stock of the castle, each doing their own thing so that they might heal from their all-to-recent wounds. She’d spoken with each of them, inquiring after the location of their one missing member, only to come up short. Nobody knew where he’d gone; only that they were each worried.

“He’s eaten spark-all in weeks, love,” Eunie said, arms crossed, foot tapping. “Idiot’s probably sleeping somewhere. Hope so, at least, or I’m gonna have to give him a piece of my mind.”

“You might be right,” Taion agreed, finger curled at his chin. “He usually enjoys his solitude at camp. I often see him swinging his Blade in practice. He’s probably alone somewhere.”

Lanz snorted, rolling his shoulders. “Good one, mate. Like that wasn’t already obvious. I reckon he’s probably playing his flute somewhere quiet. Can’t get him off that thing when he’s stressed about something.”

“But surely we’d hear it?” Sena asked. “Besides, I don’t think he can play it right now. He hurt his hands, and Eunie didn’t have her Blade to help.” She turned back to Mio with a soft smile. “Sorry, Mimi, I don’t think any of us know. Want us to help look?”

It was a kind sentiment, but Mio wanted a moment of privacy, not something to be witnessed by the others. She thanked them and went on her way. Breakroom, Ascension Hall, the long corridors of the castle. Not a single glimpse of red anywhere. Something ached in her chest. Where was he, when she needed him?

She went back outside to the Ascension Hall, where everything had gone to ruin and then righted itself in an instant. There was one place she hadn’t looked; up the stairs, to where there seemed to be a lookout point. Night had dawned by now, the stars shining above as she took the steps one at a time, fingers crossed at her side. Please, she thought. I’m tired of looking. I want to find you.

There was nobody walking around up there, no soldiers, no Lost Numbers, but there was someone sat against the fencing, head resting back against it, knees drawn up. A red jacket was tossed aside, a ribbon thrown atop it. A man, framed against the backdrop of stars, his hair loose and askew, closed eyes sunken and shadowed. Mio froze, breath snagging.

(Or was it M, petrified at the sight before her? Where did she end, and Mio begin?)

He didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge her presence at all. It took her a moment to realise that he was sleeping, his breaths deep and even. She looked for his hand, and allowed the tension to drain from her limbs when she saw the brand against his skin marking his remaining lifespan. That wasn’t all; his knuckles were ruined, bloodied and bruised. Sena had meant it when she'd said he wouldn't be playing his flute.

She moved her feet, one foot in front of the other, coming to crouch beside him. He shifted, eyelids fluttering. Any remaining worry fled her when their eyes met. Though hazy with sleep, his still had the spark of life that proved he was hers. Not the awful shadow that had ground M’s agency to dust and thrown his own future away.

“Mio?” Noah whispered, his voice thin, like he wasn’t truly believing what was in front of him. She remembered how, only hours ago, he’d used his voice truly. Told N he was full of it, and then some. It made her smile; Noah and N, while they were the same person in essence, they were entirely different people at heart.

“Funny place to take a nap,” Mio said, gathering his ribbon up. It was weightless in her hand. “Is that a Kevesi custom, to sleep in corners where nobody can find you? I can’t say I’ve heard of it.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Noah protested, pressing the heel of his palm to his eye to rub at it. “I just…wanted the quiet, so I came up here. But then my eyes got heavy, and then…well. Now you’re here. You cut your hair?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Mio said. He really did look dreadful. She’d have to hunt down Manana after this, beg her to make as much food as they had the stores for. “I suppose I wanted to show you. Not to see what you thought! Just…so you could see it.”

The edges of Noah’s mouth twitched, an amused smile coming to rest there. “It looks nice,” he said, only to reach up and tug at the ends of his own. “Maybe I should cut mine, too? Match it with yours?”

“No!” The word escaped her before she could stop it. She slammed her hands over her mouth, but it was already too late. Noah looked at her like a startled Pippito, eyes wide and his mouth half-open. Mio’s cheeks burned. “I mean, why would you do that? You look after it so well.”

“I wonder…” Noah left his sentence drift, tipping his head back against the railing again. “Maybe it’d be better if I did. You spent a month with him, didn’t you? With that monster who has my face. You’re so strong, Mio. Every time I saw him, gloating about how helpless we were, I thought I would break.”

So that was the truth, was it? She understood. Seeing your face reflected in an abyssal mirror would do that to anyone, and she knew from M’s memories what he’d gone through in the past month. She moved, kneeling on front of him, taking his face in her hands. The red ribbon pressed against his cheek as he looked back to her in surprise. “Mio?”

“I like your hair the way it is,” she said, eyebrows furrowed, ears straight and stiff. “I think it’s sweet when you fiddle with the tie. And how you take care to brush it before you sleep. I don’t know how you do it, it’s such a pain, but you still do. So you mustn’t cut it.”

Wordless, he stared at her. She took a breath, searching for the courage to carry on. “You’re wrong, Noah, I’m not strong. Every day I spent with him, I was playing a role, and it made me want to scream. I had to pretend I agreed with him, had to pretend I loved him, and his happiness was conditional on that one fact. But it showed me something. You might look the same, but you’re nothing like him. With you…there’s no need to pretend. I know that.”

She could see the tears beading at the corners of his eyes. Felt them in her own, too. Her hands moved. She took him by his trembling shoulders, knelt up so she was taller, pulled him against her chest. His head fell against her collarbones. His breath, shuddery and wet, rattled through her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, hands clutching at the back of her jacket. “I’m so glad you’re okay. When you vanished, I thought my heart was going to split in two. I was scared, Mio. Scared of that future where you weren’t there. I wished time would stop.”

“But you wouldn’t have done it. You’d have gone on without me,” Mio stroked his hair. “That’s what makes you Noah. You have the others. They’d have been there for you, I know it.”

She held onto him tighter, her eyes catching on the stars above. A memory struck her, fading fast, but trying its best to persist. Herself, stood on the cliffside, watching the sea strike the rocks. The wind was cold. Her heart was breaking. 

No, not her's, but M's. There were so many memories, so many moments. Herself, and Noah, across lifetimes. Hand-in-hand as they met their deaths together, or found their ends apart. She saw him die before her, taking blows, leaving her all alone to scream and cry and rage at the injustice of their world. She died in his arms, whispering comfort as he begged her not to go. In the bitter cold, they held onto each other for their dying warmth and wished, just one more day. Just give us another day.

“I’d never do it,” Noah said. “I’d never put you in that situation. I couldn’t. I swear it.”

He didn’t need to say it. She already knew. Pulling back from him, she smiled, grateful that for once she didn’t have to fake it. This was where M ended, and Mio began; with that truth, regret for the past no longer held in her heart. Those scenarios, they were the past. There was no going back to them. That life they’d made, it was gone. They were reborn anew, this time to make their own decisions.

“Turn around, Noah,” she said as he dashed the back of his hand across his eyes. He winced as he caught his knuckles, and she shook her head fondly. “We’ll need to get that sorted too. And some food in you. Eunie told me all about what you’ve not been eating.”

He gave a soft laugh, and Mio finally had a name to give the warm feeling inside her. M had taught her in their exchange of memories. It was like the people in the City, who pressed their lips to each other in a show of affection, or laid in bed side-by-side at night, or exchanged little bands of metal to put on each other’s fingers. It was called love, and it could do so much. It could make a person feel hot, cold, upset, or joyous. It could ruin lives or revitalise them, and it could even make new life, given time.

So many meanings contained in one little word. It was no wonder that M and N had misunderstood each other. They’d both forgotten how to speak each other’s languages, and M had been left with no choice but to fashion a new one that he could finally understand.

Noah didn’t question Mio's request; he turned his back to her, crossing his legs. She stayed knelt behind him, gathering up his hair. It trailed past her fingertips; freshly washed and silken. Beautiful.

“I think M is content, now,” she said softly as she pulled the strands together. “She wanted to call out N’s real name, to hear him say hers back. She wanted to speak with him properly, one more time. I think she got to do that with you. It wasn’t quite the same, you’re not really the person she wanted the most, but I think it helped anyway.”

“I’m glad,” Noah said, and he sounded like he meant it, genuine as he always was. “I wish I could have helped her more, but…I’m grateful to her too. For what she did for us. So, if that’s what she wanted, then I’ll do it one more time for her in N’s place.” He took a breath, composed himself. “Thank you, Mio.”

Mio tied the ribbon around the ponytail she’d made, but Noah didn’t look back at her. His gaze was fixated above, on the sky of stars. The clifftop. The sea crashing against the rocks. M and N, playing roles on their world’s stage, broken and lost.

“What are you thinking, Noah?” she asked him.

“I’m just…happy,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, the same smile that had once been everything to M, the same smile that was everything to Mio now. “To be here with you. To see this sight. It’s beautiful, but I think it’s better because you’re here to see it too. This world…it’s ours. Together.”

Something overcame her. A crushing sensation in her chest, love in its purest form, energy and action that needed to be taken. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leant into him, her head resting against the back of his neck. This was it. What she desired. A world with Noah, where they could stand side-by-side not for an eternity, but for the time they had.

It never had to be forever. Everything came to an end; it was what they made of the time they were given that mattered.

M had known that all along.

Notes:

Finished the game, cried my eyes out, lost my mind over Mio/Noah. I drew a lot from the actual insert song, so you'll find references in the fic aside from just the title.

Gonna be honest it was kind of difficult to write actually because N comes across as a hideous bastard nine times out of ten but. Ya know. Wanted to explore something the game kind of brushes over (how much did M affect Mio post mind swap) and also go more into what makes N and M distinct from Noah and Mio. Anyway as someone who shares Eunie's accent and dialect I wanna write more Eunie just so I can include 'innit' in a published work and not just irl. Maybe next time.