Jou had thought, for a moment, that things couldn't get any worse. He's already aching, bleeding and coughing and he's pretty sure he has at least a few and probably several broken ribs. He doesn't know where his NOTE is, he doesn't know where Berg-Katze has gone, the only thing he is entirely sure of is that he has failed, again. At least there is a cold comfort of that, that he can't be any more useless than he already is.
That's when he hears Berg-Katze's voice, high and trilling like they're speaking to a lover or cooing over a precious bauble. The sound comes from a long way off, echoing and distant like it's reverberating off hills before catching in Jou's ear, and for a moment the words don't make any sense. Is Berg-Katze speaking to Jou? Why, when he's not able to respond, when unconsciousness is sweeping in over him like a wave, why would -
Jou would swear his blood freezes in the first moment that he realizes.
He forgot, how could he forget, he knows the high wail of that scream and he saw Sugane go down to an offhand flick of Berg-Katze's diamond-shaped tail. But the voices of his demons were shrieking loud, echoing static in his ears and leaving tears standing in his eyes, and for a moment he thought, he let himself believe, that he was the only target.
He thought he was safe, at least, from letting himself down. His expectations for himself are already laughably low. It's good to know, he thinks dimly, with the cold clarity of true resignation, that at least he can still surprise himself.
Adrenaline is supposed to produce miracles, Jou knows. He's not sure if it's that he doesn't deserve the miracle in the first place, or that he lacks enough faith in himself to even trigger the panicked protective urge necessary to draw out that adrenaline surge in the first place. He certainly doesn't feel strong. He feels crushed, beaten, defeated. Even when he hears Berg-Katze start to laugh and forces his eyes into momentary focus, all he can see is the starlight-pale line of Sugane's throat and the unresisting limp fall of his body. Get your hands off him, he wants to say, but his lungs won't work, don't touch him but the words won't come. When he tries to push himself up the weight of his body is endless, an infinite burden bearing him flat and motionless to the ground, so heavy he wonders if he's not dead already, if this isn't the last hallucinatory flickers of brain activity before darkness takes over.
He has grown accustomed to looking forward to that, to dreaming of oblivion like a comfort, like peace, like the inevitable culmination of his perpetual disappointment in himself. With Sugane in sight, his head tilted back to bare his throat like an offering, for the first time in years Jou remembers what it is like to wish for another minute, another second. Just long enough to cross the distance, to throw himself over the gap and bear Berg-Katze to the ground, tear their hands off Sugane's shoulders and waist because no one touches Sugane like that, not while Jou's here. But Berg-Katze is touching him, and Jou is here, and he's not stopping it, Sugane is the only thing he has left to be proud of and the only person who still believes in him with the blind devotion of real love and Jou isn't saving him.
Jou always thought Sugane would be his one good thing, the one person he saved to balance out all those times he couldn't save anything. It seemed worth it, to have that single bright point. Jou blinks and he can see Sugane's smile, the way his eyelashes flutter when he's truly delighted and the soft excited tremble of his mouth whenever Jou speaks to him. He knows the shape of Sugane's handwriting and the angle his wrists fall at when he sits, he knows the bronze flecks in the gold of the other's eyes and the way his face relaxes when he's asleep. And he can see it all vanishing, the warmth of Sugane's skin and the flush on his cheeks and the bright joy in his real smile, it's slipping through his fingers and he can't move and Sugane is going to -
There's a thud, a sharp alien screech, and Hajime is there, Hajime is moving and speaking and her voice is like a bell, her voice is salvation and hope and optimism woven together into a single girl, and Sugane is safe. The relief hits Jou like snapping elastic, like all the strings barely holding him to consciousness have been cut. He can see the glow of the unexpected sunlight that has come to save Sugane, to carry him on into another day.
Jou shuts his eyes, and lets the darkness take him. He doesn't deserve the light, anyway.