10 - 5 - 14
Celine's death scene.

-

Hours.

They'd been driving for what seemed like hours.

No, they HAVE been driving for hours. A day. Where were they, exactly? Voltiel doesn't know. Doesn't care. As they approach the horizon lit up bymdusk, she'd grip the side of the car door and stare ahead. At some point, she let Celine drive. Whether or not she even knew how, Voltiel would be letting her. She insisted, really. This is about Celine, in the end. Like all the times Celine gave up pieces of herself for Voltiel, Vol intended to give up her life for Celine's. This is what she wanted.

This is the best way they could end things. Together.

Though, throughout pauses in the trip, people had been texting her. She'd begun to feel an overwhelming sense of regret. A sense of wanting to wind time backward and feel the things she used to feel. The things that made her want to live. It turned into wanting to live again. Like this all revealed some sort of twisted revelation to her.

As they near the top of the trail, they'd go off-road, and Voltiel would open the door abruptly, "stop! Stop the car! Please, Celine!"

Millenniums.

They'd been driving for millenniums.

Years and years, hours and hours, minutes and minutes, seconds and seconds, they all passed on the road. When Celine had been in the passenger seat, she was silent, with her head rested on her split-apart's shoulder—eyes glued to the windshield.

All of her broken memories came together and fell apart again. There were no voices. No shadows. It was all so clear. The world was as clear as it possibly ever could be for her tonight. All of it would end soon, and it would end with Voltiel—just as it should be. Once Vol insisted they switched, she obliged without hesitation or protest. Celine would follow Vol to the ends of the Earth and back again, and she'd pretty much already had. Here, there trail would end. It would come to a point and sever off; but, in tandem. She didn't take any notice to the texting, or anything like that. Cel had left her phone at home. She'd left everything at home but herself. She left Takeshi at home. Her clothes at home. Her letters at home. Her piano at home. The only thing left was the life she had to give and the skin on her back and her heart—however mangled it may be.

However, she was ready. There was no turning back for her.

Cel felt a small bud of doubt growing between the two of them as time dragged on. It was her sense of empathy, and her soulful connection with Voltiel, that let her maybe sense it, even if just vaguely. So, as they crept up the beaten path to the cliff, the one they'd picked beforehand presumably through google maps or something of the like, she was slow about it. A few times throughout the car ride, Cel would've reached for her hand, to squeeze it and make sure she was there, to offer support. 'Til death do them part. She'd be on her way to do the same thing as they inched closer and closer, right at the peak, until Vol ripped the door opened and pleaded with her to stop. Immediately, she reacted. The frail girl stopped the car, slammed on the breaks. No, she wouldn't force Voltiel to follow her down this road. She wouldn't and she couldn't. Swallowing hard, she looked to the side at her split-apart with silent tears in her eyes—slumped over in the driver's seat.

"W-We don't have to do this," not together.

Voltiel wants to go home. This is a nightmare. They're supposed to be strong. The world isn't supposed to swallow them up. Hathian isn't supposed to swallow them up. It's definitely not supposed to be like this. Hearing her phone go off, she'd instantly regret bringing the thing with her. They could be gone by now. They could be doing this together, and she'd give Celine the loyalty she deserves. But the ever-flaky Voltiel would be changing her mind like she changes hair color.

Whipping her head to Celine, her eyes bat small tears away. They don't roll, staying harbored for now. When the car slams on its breaks she'd jolt forward a little and wheeze, brows arched up painfully from the shock of it. "hh-h- ... we don't!?" She asks, relief already enabling her to breathe. The gripping sadness and sudden anxiety that Celine might just go HOME and end herself would be raking its claws all over her subconscious. "We can go home? Do you want to go home? Can we?" She sounds desperate, voice trembling from the strain on her own fragile psyche. The very moment they left she took to going home, and taking that letter she left to Kakihara. There would be no letter.

Celine didn't deserve any sort of loyalty. Not in her mind. This was about finishing what they started. This was about leaving this world together, of they could. One last wave of suffering before it came crashing down, receding backwards to disappear. A shaky hand searched for the door handle, unable to find it. Cel prodded the door until her fingers could wrap around it, but it took a few tries. Pale hues stayed glued to Vol, to her expression. There was relief there. It wasn't right to drag her down this path.

Celine would go it alone, and she was okay with that. She'd made her peace with all of this already. She'd felt the second thoughts, the regret, and knew that Vol might not be ready to leave like they had planned. Her free hand roamed out in search of Vol's in the darkness, matching her desperate words with physical actions. If she was able to find an opened hand, she'd grasp it with her last bit of life and look her in the eyes.

"We... W-We can go home... We ca—can..."

But in her mind, all she could think was, 'You can go home, you can go home. I have to go.' The stale air in the car was suffocating her, she needed to get out. Popping the door opened, she turned her body and tried to let go of Vol's hand to slip out of the car. "We can go home," she whispered, staring out in to the night sky, mouth parted slightly as it hung opened. Even if home was a different place for each of them.

They would go home. They would.

A strange sense of calm took over her, as if she'd just popped five Xanax—except, she didn't feel heavy. Not now. Not with Voltiel, even if she wasn't going to follow her down. Celine understood why, and held nothing but acceptance in her heart for the woman that she'd followed to the ends of the Earth. There were still things she needed to do here, but Cel would always be beneath the Juniper Tree, waiting to enjoy moments of silence with her, to laugh about everything like they were supposed to.

If she'd been able to get out of the car, she'd roam out onto the ragged rocks and just stare out for awhile, turning to look at Vol with a soft smile on her face and motion her over.

Takeshi had to pick up bread crumbs - follow tweets and do his best to keep his eyes on the black sedan. He didn't know what to feel, he had to find the first thing to wear; which was already set out for him, by him. He knew something was wrong, and he didn't know how to stop the rain now that it was falling. The day sloughed by, he had borrowed one of the Sumfai goons' cars, and he hadn't even had the time to explain why he needed it. It wasn't even full on gas, it wasn't maintained properly - but he didn't have the time.

The time.

He never had the fucking time. The whole day went by, and he was clutching his phone the entire time. He always called Celine, that's the only person he called - but there never seemed to be an answer. Just her voicemail;if she even had one. He never once considered calling Voltiel, because he didn't care about what happened to her. He didn't care about anything happening to anyone, other than Celine... And he had failed. All this time she was hiding herself, there was a visage that he was able to see, the smile and the face he came to know; but behind this towering passion, there was a shadow. A shadow that hid Celine's emotions from him, these suicidal tendencies that he didn't even see, he couldn't have seen.

The day went by, and he slowly broke away parts of the concealment - replaying things in his head. How could he have been so blind; so naive to the fact there was no 'fixing' Celine. He didn't want to fix anything, to save anything. He just wanted to feel welcome in a world that openly rejected him, for the most part. And now that open embrace was being torn from him, inch by inch. He didn't know where they wound up, he didn't know why they had chosen this place of all places to end their own suffering, but the way the door was swung open on the edge of the cliff didn't bode well... But there was some hope. There were two heads still moving in that car. Stopping further down the trail, he simply parks the car on the dirt and sprints his way closer to the vehicle perched on the cliff - that note written to him jammed in his jacket pocket. As the day went on he was able to decide how he felt...

He was furious, scared, desperate and torn. His psyche was not as broken, not as faltering as Celine's or Voltiel's, but he was certain Voltiel was going to make this about her. Selfish. Righteous. Proud. As he summited the cliff, he huffs in breathlessness as he approached the rear of the vehicle; surely to appear in the rearview mirror as an encroaching shadow before being illuminated by the tail lights - if they were even on. But he could see a silhouette, one figure among the stars. "Celine..."

There was no peace. Not for him. The last one that could find peace tonight was him.

"We can go home ... " Voltiel echoes. That's all it is though. An echo in the wind. That's all she can hear as Celine steps out of the car. Her voice echoing back at her. Not Celine's. Her own. It's about Celine though. She keeps telling herself that. This isn't about her. This isn't about her suffering. It's about Celine. As her split-apart looks over the edge of the cliff, she'd warily approach as Celine gestures for her to. The sound of another car blends into the background, "I .... " not about you, Voltiel.

"You ... are beautiful. Did you know that? Have I ever told you that? Have I ever .... " choking up, her mouth closes. Half hemorrhaged eyes stare. The wind tousles long, synthetic black hair. Whispering in the breeze. Little voices cluster and gather.

That's never happened before. There's never been a voice.

Voltiel's eyes wander the horizon, looking for the invisible entity. It's just them there. "Celine ... I was thinking. I have been thinking, this entire time. That I was selfish. That I am selfish. Have I ever told you that I'm selfish? It wasn't me that was forced, it was you. I .... I made you. I guilt-tripped you into coming with me. I drew you right into Kakihara's arms. You have to know that. That's something that you have to agree with me on, isn't it? I didn't want that. I don't know where to go from here. Kakihara wont let you come home. He said .... he said we could run away. We could go have a life somewhere."

Standing there with hope in her eyes, she'd see the air mist out in front of her nose. The chilly, autumn gust rolls in, fog laid over the water below, dusk blanketing the sky of sullen stars. Celine's name rumbles through the air and her eyes slant for the figure, just out of reach. Just out of recognition. Those little murmurs from the atmosphere come back to her again, tickling her senses.

"Huh?"

Celine stood outward, waiting for her split-apart to shuffle over with caution. The breeze atop the cliff had a bitter chill to it, a harsh bite. The land below them was shrouded in a vague fog, but the stars were showing. They were shining, right next to the moon. There was so much opened space. With her eyes closed, she took a slow, shaky inhale.

"A-At least it's not cloudy here," she muttered to herself, mostly.

The crackling tires of another car pulling up barely drew her attention. In fact, she shrugged it off. Didn't think of it. There was nothing but this moment, but her and Voltiel, but peace, but anguish coming to an end. However, there was a sickening desperation in the pit of her stomach being yanked on, as if something at the bottom of the cliff was forcing her forward, coaxing her to the edge. Cel didn't let it drag her down just yet. Bumps rose on her scarred arms from the constant breeze, but it felt like it was going right through her. Turning, she met her split-apart, she met her choked out words and stayed quiet. She, too, teared up—as she had been doing this whole time, on their way here and before they even left. She watched Voltiel's mismatched eyes in the darkness, searching for something as she spoke.

"V-Vol, you're beautiful t—t-too, in so many ways, I'm—," she couldn't finish, lips in a tight line as she took a step forward to wrap her arms around the woman if she could, fingers gripping at the material of her hoodie as her face buried into Vol's shoulder and into her neck. Tears spilled, as if they sprung right from the pain her chest, an unending well. Mangled confession spilled from her lips through sobs, arms squeezing tighter—as if she didn't ever want to let go, a last wave of instinctive desperation.

"You didn't make me d-do anything. V—Voltiel, y-you didn't. You ca—can't blame yourself, okay? D-Do you hear me? I fo—followed you b-because I wanted to. N—nobody forced me. I wa-wanted to get stronger f—for myself, for you. You only h—helped me," she stopped to suck in a rasping breath and exhale a heaving cry. "N-No guilt, n—n-no, no. I w-wouldn't have had it a—a-an-ny other way. I—," she didn't say anything to the going home part, because she knew where she was going to go and she knew Voltiel could not follow her there. "I'm sorry, I'm so-so sorry, th—that I couldn't, th-that I couldn't g—get strong enough, that I—," frozen.

Celine was frozen, because even over the rattling in her chest and the gasping, pathetic sounds of her sobs, she heard him. Takeshi, calling out her name. At first, she didn't think it was real, but she would suddenly rip away from Voltiel and stagger backwards towards the edge. Now, she had to do it now. She'd already said her goodbyes to him, she couldn't look back. She couldn't, or else she might want to stay. Celine didn't want to want to stay anymore. Celine didn't want to endure anymore.

"T-Takeshi?" She called out into the darkness, hands gripping at her own chest, clawing at it as her breath grew rapid and hoarse through the tears.

He could hear Voltiel's voice. He knew that she was there, he knew that this was her drive and her passion to bring it all to this, the spearhead of everything; and even though it had nothing to do with him... He believed it was to spite him. Everything that the raven-haired woman did was to spite -him-, and him alone. Maybe he was selfish in that right, and he had every right to be, at least in his mind. But to know that this was because of her, all culminating to this; the fury overtakes everything. Marching up to the car and narrowing his eyes to the passenger seat relative to his approach, he hears nearly everything that Voltiel tells Celine.

'Guilt trip.' 'Made you.' 'Drew you into Kakihara's arms.'... 'Have a life somewhere.'

"It truly is a miracle you think at all, Voltiel. Really. You finally realize how your greed and your pride have wrought this destruction." His hands ball into fists as he grinds his teeth in frustration, a bull in a china shop if ever there was one, proceeding to reach the side of the vehicle and laying a gentle hand on the cool metal of the frame. "And just what life would you have her believe she has, after all of that? After you did those things to her? A life as a -prisoner-, as a butterfly with it's wings ripp--"

He hears his name said, and the fury seemed to vanish into the cold air as he sighs, much like his breath his anger would slip away into the darkness, but Celine's proximity to the edge made him stop in his tracks, the hand on the vehicle raises to the blonde girl, as if waiting for her to take his hand. "Celine, you don't have to do this. I read the note, I read every word. I don't want to help you, I can't fix you, but I can save you. One last time, all you have to do is reach for me. I can be your strength, I can be your solace." He reached out for Celine's back from his position near the vehicle, no where -near- the woman who undoubtedly intended to jump. He could see her falling, but he didn't want to think about it. He could stop this... He -had- to stop this.

"Just step back, Celine. There's so much more... We haven't finished the sonata."

Voltiel stands in silence, the choked up sensation in her throat becoming too much. Tears roll freely, warming her cheeks in the midst of the cold, autumn chill that lingers around them, through them. Full lips parts and the strange, foreign tingle of wandering words in her mind start to grow worse. Rapidly. Like every demon she's ever had, every skeleton that she's ever hidden away in the multiple closets of that room in her head are coming out to say hello. To play. To make home in her awareness. Settling there just for now, calmly. It frightens her. Leaping voices and words strangle her, the ability to speak lost momentarily. Something is coming. And it's merciless. She knows something is about to happen but can NOT fathom what.

The dark, never-ending void in her head echoes relentlessly, hollowness encompassing her entire body as a result of crippling sadness, apprehension, fear. Whimpering a soft mewl in the undertones of her voice, her hand comes up, wrapping around Celine tightly. She holds her tight, just as Celine had intended to. There would be a long, long moment of silence after Celine speaks. "If that is what you wish ... if you do not want me to be blamed for what has happened, then we can move past it, Celine. We can .... we can grow stronger from it. You don't have to ... to say things like that. You don't need to be sorry. There's no need .... our lives haven't ended yet. Y--" as she'd jerk away, the void would grow larger.

Something is missing. It feels as if she actually --splits-- apart from Voltiel.

A hand reaches out, throat contracting, struggling to swallow, "Celine. Please. Grab my hand. We'll go back. We can go home .... we can go to -your- home, we .... we can ... " and Takeshi's voice would interrupt her, cutting through her like razor wire. Her breath hitches in her throat, chest rising up and down in short, deep huffs. She starts to hyperventilate right there, still holding out her hand, not looking to Takeshi as he attempts to reach for her. To get her to come back, as Voltiel intends to do.

She doesn't look. Doesn't listen. The noise in her head clusters, sounds that don't make a bit of sense making themselves formidable. Street sounds. Rolling tires. Honking horns. The airy, dense sound of night air.

Celine pressed both hands to her ears as Takeshi started to spew venomous accusations, to throw wrath at her split-apart. No, no, she didn't want that. No, she didn't like what he was saying. No, she didn't want to hear any of it anymore. She didn't want to hear anything. There wasn't time to answer Vol after she ripped away from her. There was a sinking feeling, a void pushing outwards inside of her constricted, crumbling chest. Cel had just split apart from her, severed the ties. No one needed to follow her down this path, no one. Gradually, she sunk to the ground and tucked her head between her knees, hands not reaching out for anyone or anything, but still held against her ears. Voltiel wasn't greedy or prideful, she was hurt just like Celine was. She was so hurt.

It wasn't anyone's fault, really. It wasn't, it couldn't be. They'd all just gotten the short end of the stick, and it was time for Celine to rest her tired eyes. It was time for Celine to go home. The fragile, pale girl, curled up and pathetic, cried to herself and stared at the jagged rock beneath her feet.

"N-No, no, n—n-no," she muttered over and over until she inhaled sharply, cutting herself off, even the tears. For a little while, she just stayed there like that, staring wide-eyed at the ground. Only seeing out of one eye. Flashbacks from the kitchen of her childhood, being in the same exact position amongst the pool of blood that was left of her family.

That night beneath the Juniper Tree. That night on the table. That night in Tabitha's cage. All of her time with Voltiel. All of her time with Colton. All of her time looking for Leandra, and she was waiting just over the edge. She was. Limply, her hands dropped and she gazed up at them, covered in blood. Just a delusion, but it looked real as the velvety liquid seeped and crept up her arm like a parasite. Numb, she felt so numb.

"I'm red," she whispered to herself. No answers to anything else just yet, not even as Voltiel and Takeshi pleaded with her, and she looked up just in time—torn from her psyche—to see them reach their hands out to her. There was that chance to turn back, ready and waiting. Their bodies were illuminated by the harsh headlights, both of their pained expressions, slowly realizing the loss of hope. It was daunting. Celine didn't feel like she was in her body anymore. She was so close to that edge. Something was tugging her closer... But, one hand reached out to Voltiel weakly, shaking, before it whipped back into herself—slapping against her chest.

Celine heaved, rasped, as she stood up on her own two feet again and took another step or two back. Head going from side-to-side, she watched the two in front of her with the utmost horror. The expression dropped from her face as she felt the edge of the cliff at her heel. Wind whipped and batted blond locks about her scarred face, and she smiled. To both of them. Was there anything left to say? 'I'm sorry,' maybe? She'd already apologized so many times. Breath caught in her throat as she watched Vol fall apart. She wanted to reach out, to help somehow... But it was too late. It was time to go home. She saw the desperation stricken across Takeshi's face, the denial. No, there was no saving or fixing. There was no solace here, but there was solace at the bottom of the rocks. That's where she would find solace.

"P-Please don't," she choked out, started to saying /something/, but couldn't finish. Couldn't find the words.

"I have to go now," she whispered, unsure if they could hear her over the biting, autumn breeze.

Takeshi keeps his hand extended even as Voltiel embraced Celine, the cause and the effect together in such a wonderful pairing makes him want to help Celine even more... But as they separate, his hand would be so tempted to push Voltiel right off the side. He would be the cause, her the effect; the joy he feels as the thought crosses his mind is inexplicable - but it seemed too easy. Too well thought out and too obvious. No one deserved to die tonight more than her, and yet he tries to continue and save the person he came up here for. He wills his hand to extend and take Celine's, if not for a moment longer. Voltiel's embrace was not the last thing he wanted Celine to feel, if she jumped. He prayed to whatever god may be listening that she would repel, fall back from the ledge and come back to him. But Voltiel extends her hand, spouts about going back home even after he explains there is no home to be had with Voltiel...

And yet, Voltiel challenges him. How -dare- she, expect someone to go back to that hell, that Stockholm Syndrome torment, how -dare- Voltiel even comprehend the magnitude of destruction she had caused, in someone she 'loves'. Celine turns around, sees the look on her face. The lack of expression, the somber determination of her choice, but that wasn't what brought along the silence. It was as Celine started to reach a hand towards Voltiel, and oh how he should have known. The hand that reached out to Celine balls into a fist and falls to his side, simply staring back at Celine as she heels over to the edge of the cliff, even more dangerously than before. As she smiled to him however...

He smiled back.

He had seen that face before, but he accepted it. There was a faint ringing in his ears as his heart was torn apart in his chest, the sounds drowned out by the last words Celine speaks into the breeze, she had to go.

"No... No, you don't do this! This isn't the way the sonata ends!" His anger subsides, his acceptance subsides, the sound of the world removed from his conciousness. He would push past Voltiel, and if not stopped, would attempt to reach Celine before she had the chance to act - Yet, on purpose, his writer would make him lose balance due to a sharp pain in his right leg, he tweaks his ankle on the jagged top of the cliff and trips. With a small -oof!- on the stone, he looks up to Celine, if she hadn't fallen back already.

Voltiel watches Celine with a deep sense of sadness, overwhelmed by her own breaking heart, her own cracking mind. In the moment that Celine goes down and squats there at the edge of the cliff, she falls back in sync with her. The light mantra of negativity from Celine would be regarded. Voltiel slowly lowers her hand. She straightens and takes a step back. Her face contorts, eyes seeping tears relentlessly.

"You can go," she murmurs gently, head tilting to the side just a little while she speaks, "and you don't have to be sorry. You don't. I meant that. You don't have to be sorry, ever. Not sorry to me, or Takeshi... to yourself. Y-you .... " breath after breath is taken, listening to Takeshi breathe beside her in cadence, still behind her while she speaks, "I'll be with you, some day. I'll go to you. No one has to understand. No one has to know what happened, but us. We know. That's what is important. You and I. We're the same ... we're always together."

Oh, how wrong she felt. It feels as though Celine is leaving her forever. And she is. There is no afterlife. Is there? Would Celine be reunited with her family? With her regrets? Would it finally all be relieved? Voltiel hopes for that. Standing in silence while Takeshi falls over in all of his ignorant rage, she'd take a step back. Two steps back. She'd hope for Celine to find peace. To love herself. To love her family, in the afterlife. They'd be embracing her. And the voices, they would end. The anguish. All of the hate and hurt.

"Go home ... " she whispers, whether it be to herself, or Celine, she wouldn't know in that moment. The overwhelming urge to follow Celine would have Voltiel completely frozen. It immobilizes her completely. She couldn't go. There's no way. It couldn't end like that.

It wouldn't.

Celine teetered on the edge, feeling a tug at her ankle. Pebbles fall and crumble as her boots scuff against the rock, waiting on the edge of a chasm. It was a far fall, but at the end... There was peace, right? The tears started up again, endlessly, as Vol spoke to her, and Takeshi's extended hand balled into a fist of betrayal. 'You can go,' said her split-apart. Yes, they were still so, still together—even after she ripped away from her in so many different ways. Wiping at her raw, reddened cheeks, she muttered, "T-Together again."

Couldn't they be together now, if she decided to stay? Couldn't all of this be fixed? This moment? But nothing else could be fixed, she assured herself of that much. Everything else would crumble around her, and she wanted to die the way she was while she still could. Hanging onto the sanctum of humanity inside of her writhing chest. Words, words, words, where were the words? What was there to say now? If Vol said she didn't need to be sorry, then she wouldn't apologize anymore. Celine felt so far away from them, at the edge of the cliff, but so close at the same time—like they were just a hand's reach away.

"D-Do what I couldn't," she said, voice sullen.

"I-I'll see you someday," she called out weakly, watching her split-apart retreat even further. Would she see her someday? Would she find Leandra on the other side? Was there another side? The only thing that mattered to her was peace, was rest, was the end of suffering, and the end of an era. Cel was torn from her reverie, torn from Voltiel's body slinking into darkness, as Takeshi raged forward and yelled for her, fell before her. Her whole body shook with heavy sobs, anguish wracking her body. Oh, how she wanted to fall back and disappear into the fog at the bottom. To get away from all of this.

A tentative hand peeled away from her chest to try and reach out, just barely, fingers shaped as if to caress the side of his face gently. But she pulled them back, gripped the side of her own face instead. "I-I love you. Don't follow me. P-Play the sonata for m—me one day, will you? O-Okay?" That night they sat on the piano bench, and what followed. The way he sprinted her to the hospital when her lung collapsed. How he looked when he slept, on all of those nights she laid sleepless beside him. Celine twisted out yet another sob, "O-Okay?" Then, she looks over to Voltiel just in time to see her lips mouth the words, 'Go home,' still not quite faded into complete darkness—frozen in the headlights of the car. For a second, she glanced between the two, then up into the sky at the moon. It shone across her tear-streaked face and there was silence. There was utter silence for once.

No static.

No voices.

No disembodied giggling.

A slow inhale was drawn as she looked down again, to Voltiel. Both of them still as statues. That moment, seized in time, at a standstill. No, she couldn't go. It couldn't end like this, not for her split-apart. It would for herself, though. It was time. Cel was holding her breath, waiting. Both of her slender hands dropped to her sides, limp and useless like dead weights. She held that gaze with Vol all the while, not tearing away once. So close, just one step. What Celine said next was probably caught up in the autumn breeze, the whirling air that gripped at her body and dragged it down.

"If you ever need me, I'll be beneath the Juniper Tree."

Though, all they might've heard was probably just along the lines of, '... Beneath the Juniper Tree.'

And she was gone.

It felt like such a long exhale of a moment, but it really was only a few seconds before she took that fatal step. It was simple, quick. No leaping or bounding or twisting—she simply just fell. The wig fell from her head and drifted off course from her, short, faded locks of hair whipped at her face. There was a sinking feeling in her gut as she fell, but no regret. Celine closed her eyes and waited for the moment she wouldn't feel anything more, welcomed it. Through the fog to the rock, and she was gone. There her body laid, lifeless and limp; her limbs were twisted, broken, and her head busted in the back. Dead on impact, the fall was enough.

If someone were to pick her up, she would be like a broken doll in their hands with cracked porcelain and shattered supports. Even so, she never looked more at peace. All the way down, there was a smile on her face. V

oltiel would've seen it. Takeshi would've seen it as she glanced at him on her way down, just before falling below their sights.

A lingering smile, one that could only be hers.

One that she carried with her to her grave.

Takeshi can only stare forward in his stupor on the stone, he felt like Voltiel had accepted it much like he had - but he was not so willing to simply let it slide away. It was like her, to simply walk away and feel nothing, to let it all fall off of her like water to a hot metal plate. It just bubbled away and danced across the surface and vanished.

His 'ignorant rage' was not rage at all, but his way of coping with things. His way of deciding that there isn't any hope left. He knew it the moment Celine snapped away from Voltiel, there was really no stopping her from falling away, but he couldn't believe it. This wasn't how it ended, this wasn't the way it was going to fall apart right in front of him. He wasn't used to loving someone and having them love him back - and he sure as hell wasn't used to having it torn away from him like a miswritten page in a novel, a memory to be erased and a flame to be extinguished... At least, Takeshi wasn't.

Somehow this felt familiar, the heartache and the separation, the permanence of it. The be-all end-all was too familiar to him, but he felt like he was going to lose it all again. What had he lost before? It was mind wracking, everything happening at once as his eyes dart about in the darkness and stay static at the same time... Then Celine's fingers graced his face, his features soften if only for a moment. Her last words, beneath the juniper tree. It was a lovely thing to say, wasn't it? That doubt in those last moments seems to fall away from Takeshi, but he still had one thing to say.

"For you, anything." He shuts his eyes and furrows his brow, waiting - the eternity that waits between him and the sound was long enough for him to grind his teeth, make him impatient, make him wonder if anything was actually happening - was he dreaming? Would he wake up, Celine beside him - just another unnecessary nightmare? Then he heard it, the sound of every bone breaking and the world he knew collapsing - Celine had hit the bottom of her fall, this was not a dream, and the song would never be finished. His eyes split open to reveal that Celine no longer stand before him, and as he drags himself over to the edge; he saw it. There at the chasm lies the only thing that made him feel welcome, and she told him not to follow. So, then, shall it be.

He looks back over his shoulder, fingertips sliding over the rough stone where Celine stood - staring right at Voltiel. No sounds, no voices, nothing was coming from Takeshi, but in his head thousands upon thousands of dissonant chords were all playing at once, trying to form a cacophony that whispered at him, yet shouted their lies and their blame. He slowly pulls himself to his feet, staring at Voltiel the whole time, his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Standing on the edge, he would take a step towards Voltiel, then another, and another - staggered, incoherent, unstable. Finally he speaks, four simple words...

"Look what you've done."

Blip, blip, chirp.

The phone in her pocket begs for attention.

Celine is speaking, but so are the multitude of other entities in her head. One rings true. One stands out among the others. Her face washes of all expression as Celine tells her to do what she couldn't.

What she cant. What she wont.

"I'll see you .... " she whispers, the words only readable on her lips. More steps are taken back, and then she freezes again. Her legs refuse to move. The sobbing that follows would twist Voltiel's brows together, the glaring lights of the car stinging at the edges of her gaze. Holding her sight on Celine a while longer, she'd finally take her phone out from her pocket. And she'd hold it, tightly. No attention would be on that little device. None, for the moment. Celine's moment with Takeshi doesn't disgust her. It frightens her. What had he done to her? Did he toy with her emotions? There's some misunderstanding. Why would anyone care about him? All that Voltiel can remember is anger. Hatred, from out of nowhere. And the way he continued to peruse her with those spires when she displayed utmost fear in them. The lights continue to stab like those leering needles, a spotlight on Celine from the other end as she approaches the cliffside. "The Juniper tree." She echoes, mouth parting.

Colton. She hates him.

Doesn't she?

But that's the first person that arises in her mind. Would he care? Would he want to hear about it? Would anyone care? It feels like the entire world would go without caring about tonight. Without caring about Celine's anguish.

But they wouldn't. Voltiel would make sure of it.

It would be heard of.

People would know that she cares. So, so much, she cares.

"I'll go there." To the tree.

The step taken backward causes Voltiel to lurch a step forward. Five. Ten. Until she's at a close distance, but not too close. Her eyes stare. Blink. And when she blinks, Celine is gone. What follows would also make her lurch. The cracking of bones. The dull thump of her second soul's skull hitting the rocks below. Then nothing. She'd seen the smile, and Voltiel would not smile back. The vehicle at her side hums, then the lights shut off the moment Takeshi turns to her, uttering those words that lacerate her heart. The small light from her phone would be seen, and she'd raise it up to her ear, the wicked sound of a dial tone filling up the air.

" .... Celine .... she's dead."