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“What was it like when you fell into that volcano?” Melia asks.
The fake sky above is littered with stars. The ocean below reflects the very beauty of such a sight. It is their universe, after all. She wonders why Kaji had chosen Route 6 to be reflected in Zeight. Was it because of the memories there? She can’t think of anything nice. They are just kids, after all. Even after eons had passed. They were merely children sent to war.
Her Interceptor smiles, lopsided. The corner of his eyes crinkling just a little.
“It burned.” Kaji says simply.
In another time point—the one she just got out of—her Interceptor lied. He tells her that it was okay. All peachy, with a forced smile that doesn’t quite reach their eyes. At that point, Melia gives him a second Clefablite she had found.
She remembers seeing Crescent by the lighthouse. And Kaji tells her it is his mindscape. She’s never seen into his mind before, but he has seen into hers.
Melia frowns and pulls herself away from the console. She reaches to touch him; the skin that had just melted off mere moments earlier.
“You lied to me when I found you.” She whispers. Like it’s a secret.
“I know,” He responds. “And there was a time where I told you the truth, too.”
How many times would they do this? Eons and eons stretching further into infinity. Melia cannot see the end of it. She doesn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. All the timelines are starting to blur, and she might’ve lost sight of the past, future and present if it weren’t for her friend.
Kaji finds her hand, grabs it and redirects her hand to his cheek. Melia’s palm brushes against the soft curve of her Interceptor’s face.
“I’m here,” he hums a gentle timbre.
She relaxes. A soft exhale, and Melia runs her thumb along her Interceptor’s cheek. This is no longer Variya’s Interceptor, after all. Kaji is hers. Her player two. Her Queen piece to play on the board.
“You… switch between two personalities.” Melia admits. “Sometimes I can’t tell which version I’ll be talking to.”
Her Interceptor presses his lips into a thin line, “So do you.”
That’s different. But Melia does not say it. Her mouth opens and closes. She tries to pull her hand back, but Kaji’s grip is firm. Loathe she admit, Melia has seen the very first versions of him—the worlds where the Interceptor betrayed her. He has acted the same back then too. Melia was different. She is different.
“You’re not.” Kaji confirms.
Melia’s heart seizes.
“You’re not different. You are her. You were her.” Venom pours from their mouth. Melia can only think of Venam. But her Interceptor is so gentle as they pull her closer.
The scene changes. Route 6 is gone, and under her feet is a chessboard. Her shoes clack against the hard tile underneath as she is led into a waltz.
“I’m not M2.” Melia denies it.
Her Interceptor laughs. It is a beautiful sound in the face of the end.
“You aren’t.” They pass a lone pawn on the board. “But you’re Melia. M2 is also Melia. I’ve seen both of your diaries.”
“I forget that about you.” She mutters under her breath.
There is a glint in his eyes, almost as if he is flattered by such a simple comment. Melia spins them around to go back in the direction they came.
“But you made it back to me.” Kaji sounds proud. She’s leading the dance now. “That’s all that matters.”
They pass by the same pawn.
“I would always find you.” Melia hushes.
“I’m sorry for betraying you.” Her Interceptor follows her steps perfectly.
She thinks nothing of it. They haven’t betrayed her. Wouldn’t betray her. It just cannot happen.
“You should apologise to M2 instead of me.” She quietly states.
“Like you did with Zenos?” Her Interceptor laughs and suddenly dips her. She squeaks and clings onto her friend as if he’ll drop her. He doesn’t, of course. Her ponytail is touching the ground with how long it has become.
His hair has gotten longer, too.
“I was wrong, okay?” Melia hisses. Her brows furrow and her eyes are crimson yet again. Strangely enough, her Interceptor brightens up.
“You’ll burn with me.” Kaji pulls her back up again. They straighten and stare at each other whilst catching their breaths. “Not in the lava of Valor Mountain, but where we’re going. Whatever waits for us at the end, I’ll burn with you.”
Melia finds herself gasping for air. Her lungs strain, and her heart pounds in her ears. She’s still scared of what waits for them at the very end. The downcast gaze of their friends, the disappointed and hateful looks at what they’ve become—what she’s become. She’s not the sweet Melia they’ve all come to know and love.
Her fists thump onto her Interceptor’s chest. She hiccups and swallows down a sob.
“I never wanted this,” Melia’s voice is shaky as she tries to keep her composure. Ever the crier, even when she’s no longer bound by a certain script. Or maybe, she can’t leave her roots. Not far enough. Never enough.
“I know.” Kaji’s voice is calm, albeit with a sad cadence. He hugs her closer and lets her sob into his chest. “I’ll pull you out of this, I promise.”
She grips on his shirt and looks up.
“It’s you and me, forever.”