I've always known that, sooner or later, I'll screw everything up again.

It's what I do. It's inevitable.

You see, I already knew by the time I was forced to reveal myself in Fonsa Myma that, no matter what, I couldn't…absolutely COULDN'T…be trusted alone with my new Driver.

Never, never be alone with him. Pyra…always hide behind Pyra.

ALWAYS keep Pyra up front when we're together and don't let myself falter. Don't stare at him. Don't touch him. NEVER dream about him touching me.

That's the only way to not screw everything up, you know?

Okay…so maybe I should explain.

You see, alone with him…I'll slip. Eventually it'll happen no matter how hard I try to stay aloof. Pyra can hold her tongue. I can't. I'll open my stupid mouth and, with no Pyra between him and me, the wrong words will pour forth.

It's happened before.

Look, none of this is what I wanted. I didn't sign up for any of it. It's that skinny little snot-nose, that puny damn salvager. He's too…innocently kind. Too gentle. Too egalitarian. His heart is too big, his attitude too positive, his personality too bright, his words too uplifting, his determination and will too strong. He's undeniably honest and brave.

And he's completely oblivious. Everything he knows about women wouldn't fill a thimble.

He keeps his word. That little asshole…he always keeps his word. It's that damn Salvager's Code I guess. Anyway, he went up against and defeated the two most powerful Blades in Alrest…one the Dark Aegis himself…just to keep his word to Pyra. And thus to me.

He thinks I'm beautiful. Father…damn you! Why him? Why now? Why are you doing this to me?

Damn that scrawny, headstrong bastard! He makes me WANNA LIVE! This is all his fault!

His…and Pyra's.

The plan was simple…so simple I thought even my angelic-but-dense derivative sister could handle it. If we're ever recovered, find some dimwit to take us up the World Tree to Elysium so we can die. Preferably someone with nothing to lose since he also won't survive the journey.

That's it. Simple, right?

Well…okay, lesson learned. Never send innocent-sister to do sophisticated-self's job. Pyra managed to jack that plan up the first chance she got. Not only did she pick THE EXACT OPPOSITE of the kind of schlub I was looking for, she felt such compassion for his dead ass that she gave him half our life-force. Yeah, you heard me right. Just gave it to him.

Isn't Pyra generous? She's like that. Always.

I stayed silent…I was still ostensibly asleep, after all…but I was incensed. Pyra and that little shit couldn't head straight to the Tree; oh, no, that would be too easy. They were gonna have some ADVENTURES together first. Yay! Adventure! Now, not only would I have to suffer through every ass-beating this rookie-driving punk and my equally-rookie plasma-Blade 'sister' took, but there would also be plenty of time for 'innocent-sister' to become emotionally attached to this stray she'd picked up.

And, since we were really still one person and I experienced everything she did, it meant I'd become attached, too.

Dammit! Of all the people in Alrest that coulda recovered our capsule…all the thieves, cutthroats, greedy merchants, arrogant nobles, perverts, degenerates, monsters…why the hell did the person who ended up resonating with us have the unmitigated gall to be so much like…HIM?

He asks me if I love this world. And I do. Because he's in it.

He tells me he won't let it burn again. And I believe him. Because he believes in me.

Oh, Father, why can't he just be afraid of me, too?

Why am I not afraid of the Scary Dark when he's with me?

Why am I not afraid of MYSELF when he's with me?

Dammit, Dammit, DAMMIT! Damn everything between here and Elysium, why does he have to be even BETTER than HIM?

Pyra, of course, fell in love with him. Almost fucking immediately, damn her.

I hated him.

Because I fell in love with him, too.

Pyra's her own person now…it's our Father's gift to her. I can't hide my voice, my body, my heart, my soul, inside hers anymore.

Separate from me, she's his. They'll be together. She knows. All our friends know.

I wanna be his, too.

But I'm gonna screw everything up. Next time I'm with him it'll truly be me. I'll falter. I'll stare. I'll touch. I'll encourage him to touch…

…and then I'll open my stupid mouth, letting the wrong words pour forth.

Foresight can be a mixed blessing.