Yup... a Karst/Isaac fic.
Well, read away.

Pink eyelids fluttered slowly, almost in disbelief of their own function, slowly exposing flame red eyes to light much too bright to be tolerated. The lids quickly shut themselves again, shielding the sensitive eyes behind them from the bulk of the light, allowing only faint glimmers through their shield to allow time to adjust. While the eyes struggled to perceive what was wrong with them, the pointed ears twitched just slightly. There was sound, definitely sound. It was dull though, quieted, covered by something to ease it. It came through as nothing more than intermittent murmurs marring the silence pervading all around it.

The lips parted slightly, air rushing from the new gap in a wave before gently being drawn back in. The tongue within shifted slightly, its sharp tip absently probing at a white fang contained within the moist cavern. Muscles contracted of their own will, dragging saliva down the tunnel of the throat, and then again. A soft breath of air brushed down past the lips, from the nostrils above as they did, before withdrawing again, taking in the scents of pine and cinnamon.

A finger twitched, slowly registering the familiar and curious sensation of feeling. It flexed slightly, stroking the cushioned surface around it, soft and yielding. Its siblings followed suit, exploring the area underneath them curiously as feeling returned. The fingers grasped together, forming their whole, grasping onto the fabrics beneath them, clutching onto them for dear life for fear it would disappear.

The eyelids shot open, the crimson treasures behind glancing around curiously, the light now tolerably blinding. An arm flexed backward, the elbow dragging through sheets, as it pushed a lithe torso upward. Discomfort, almost pain, spiked through the muscles, but it was tolerated. Within seconds the young Proxian girl was sitting up in a bed.

Karst blinked twice, her eyelids strained in the light to register what was around her. The cogs of her mind began to work furiously trying to figure out what had happened. Thoughts jumped around from one to the other, trying to piece together whatever it could.

She had died.

Karst swallowed the distaste the thought had brought to her as she looked around. If she had died, this must have been the afterlife. Yet… it was all too… plush. She did not deserve any of that. She had failed. She had not been strong enough. She had to pass her duty to Felix, and to the boy who had killed her sister. This life after was not what she deserved, she knew she should be punished in the flames of hell for her failings.

But… this afterlife seemed all too real, yet she was sure she had died, she remembered the chilling emptiness. She had sat, dying, beneath the altar to Mars' personification. Her wounds had been healed, but she was too weak to survive. Agatio had been the same beside her. She remembered the cool touch of the red metal at her back, the crawling icy bite of death edging closer to her moment after moment.

She had smiled in the end, feeling the heat of the Mars Beacon, but that had been her last action, her last thought. She had seen her sister and her mentor for a moment before the all-consuming darkness took her. How could she be here now?

She shuddered, pain becoming more prominent throughout her form. She spared a few moments to wonder about her Agatio, if he was still alive, if that was the truth of her right now. A grumbling from her stomach echoed underneath the white sheets covering her. She groaned, the sounds scratching against her throat.

"Karst?"

The Proxian's gaze snapped in the direction of the familiar voice. She had only heard it once before, as he fought her, but it alighted hatred within her. Her gaze hardened to steel, she reached to her waist, quickly realising it was devoid of both belt and weapon. The boy responded to her actions cautiously, raising his hands in surrender as he edged into the room.

"You." She growled, feeling the Psynergy in her blood boil it. She heard Menardi demanding vengeance in her ear.

"Easy, I just came to check on you." He said, keeping his hands raised, his weapon absent from him.

"What do you want?" She cut across him, "Come to gloat? Well, have your fun and leave me be. I have no desire to speak to you, murderer."

The boy swallowed whatever was gathered in his mouth, the guilt, or his mockery, she cared not really. She just wanted him gone. Menardi would never forgive her own sister speaking with the boy who had ended her, and she had no intent to indulge whatever sick fantasies he had formed while she was out.

"Prox is safe, Karst." He said calmly, perhaps trying to relieve some of her burden, "You're safe."

Karst grunted through gritted teeth. All of that was rather obvious, he and the others had obviously ignited the final Beacon, how else would she and he be here now? Unless this truly was hell and she doomed to endure his presence for all of eternity. Yet, his success meant she and all of Prox owed them a life debt. They were honour bound by their tenants. Proxians were nothing if not loyal.

The eight had saved Prox, and the entire world, and saved her, so she was eternally indebted to them. Forced to offer her sister's murderer's respect. She was not sure if her sister would be disgusted if she did, or if she would insist she held to the Proxian teachings. Not that it would matter, Menardi was never one to approve anything she did. She could never do anything right in her eyes.

"Thank you." She said with great difficulty, the words tasting like bile on her tongue. She kept her gaze on her lap, refusing to face the blue eyes she knew were still on her. Part of her just wanted to rip them from their sockets. Then his weight came down on the bed beside her knees, she instinctively drew away from him. Just because she had to respect him did not mean she had to be at all fond of his presence so close to her.

"I'm sorry about Menardi, Karst." He said softly, the false apology igniting a fire in her.

Her eyes shot up, Psynergy alight behind their red sheen, "Don't dare speak her name, boy!" She attempted to lunge forward to grab him, to inflict pain on him in some way, but her body seemed to stall that. Pain shot through her body, making her wince as she fell back down against the bed. He backed away just enough to escape her grasp, raising his hands as an act of peace.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, "I did not mean to hurt you, or her. She left me no choice."

"Is that supposed to make it better?" She spat in return, thinking of her sister. Her sister would not be caught talking to this boy if it had been her who had died. He would either be dead, or, if current circumstances would still be true for her, she would have made him leave the instant his face had appeared in the doorway leading to the room. She would have given him no chance to insult her honour.

The boy shook his head, "No. Not at all." He replied softly, his hand gently patting her leg, which she curtailed with a quick jerk of the knee, "I'm just telling you, had I been able to avoid it, I would have."

Menardi would never allow that, nor would Saturos, they lived by the Proxian warrior's creed of duty until death. Nothing would ever have dissuaded them from their goal, no words could have been said, no actions taken, nothing done to stop them. Karst felt so weak in comparison to her now, she was probably ashamed to know that her sister survived and had given up on her self-imposed quest of vengeance.

"I am sorry, I know what it is like to experience loss."

This reignited the ire doused by her feelings of inadequacy next to her sister, "Your father still lives. You get your happy, storybook, ending." She spat in return.

The boy nodded, "Yes, however, for the past few years of my life all I knew was that my father was gone." He replied simply, "I could not have known he was here. All my years since the day he was taken from me I have thought of my choices, if my father would approve. I know what you are thinking."

"You know nothing!" She lunged forward again, ignoring the pain, succeeding in grabbing him by his damned yellow scarf. She glared into his damnable blue eyes, eyes that showed true sorrow and just an ounce of fear. Images of Menardi filled her mind. One told Karst to avenge her, another chastised her for disregarding Prox's teachings, another called her weak, incapable, all of them criticised everything she did.

She gritted her teeth, doing all she could to contain her emotions. She wanted to kill him right now, for her sister, for her family's honour, but why should she care? It was not as though Menardi ever cared for her. The only memories she had of her sister were ones of abuse and insults. There was no happy life like that she had seen others have, not like she had heard of from Felix and his family, from this boy's father. All there was for her was criticism throughout her life as Menardi tried to shape her into a better Proxian, but no matter what she did she was not good enough. All Menardi did was criticise. There was no praise for any accomplishment. No kind words on how to improve further, only what she had done wrong.

In her skills with a scythe, she was always 'sub-par', 'inelegant', and 'clumsy'. She had only taken the scythe as a weapon to try and make her sister proud. Yet, not even that had sparked any affection from her. Menardi had seen it as a challenge and always ruthlessly talked down to her because of it. She did always say the weapon was the epitome of graceful death. Karst always just made it seem as though it was some stick with a blade. With Psynergy she never focused herself enough, never directed or controlled it properly. She was never able to properly help the community, never able to pull her own weight, she should have been able to manage more. All she wanted was to be able to match her, or beat her.

She had been beaten down by her sister constantly in training. Every time Karst thought she improved a little and Menardi would completely wipe away that by laughing at her pitiful attempts to break through her guard. She had never once managed to so much as scratch her sister with her weapon, while she was always left burnt, bloody, and bruised after. Then, it was not even Menardi to tend to her wounds. She was forced to do so herself and was expected to be able to fight again within half an hour.

All her sister did was push her. Even Saturos had been kinder than she.

In the end some boy who had stumbled into his skills with swordplay and Psynergy defeated her. Some boy Karst had sworn to end, in some final desperate attempt to make her sister happy with what she had done. Yet, she could not even do that. She was just a disappointment to her family, to her sister.

Karst realised her lip was quivering as she dwelled on the thoughts, at the constant chastising the imagined images of her sister were throwing at her, at the impossible standards she could never hope to meet. She released Isaac from her grasp, turning her gaze down and hiding her face in her hands. She should have died in Mars Lighthouse, at least there was some amount of dignity, of honour, in dying there. To live with the knowledge that she had failed though? Nothing was more humiliating.

She felt a dampness passing between the soft pink scales of her palms, the cold heat of the moisture striking her. Her sister would never forgive her for crying, especially not in front of a sworn enemy. She was a failure to her, she could almost imagine Menardi retching at the pitiful sight of her sister now. She sniffled slightly, taking in one sharp breath.

"Just leave." She demanded shakily.

She felt his weight on the bed shift, but it did not leave, rather it came closer to her. She chanced a glance up, being sure to wipe the wetness from her eyes before she did, taking back on her steely gaze. The boy's blue eyes were close to her, no more than a few inches from her own, she stared at him for a moment, before she realised who he was. Ready to demand he leave her again, but it was pre-empted.

The boy's arms wrapped themselves around her huddled form, holding onto her warmly, his body heat spreading into her. She froze wondering what this was exactly. She had never been hugged before, she did not know what to think. The sensation itself was nice, warm and comforting, which disgusted her internally. This was the boy who had murdered her sister, the boy she was supposed to kill but could not, and he was hugging her.

Strangely, Karst felt herself relaxing into his hold, the shuddering of her breaths becoming easier and smoother. Her tears began to slow until they stopped entirely. This… feeling… Karst swallowed whatever remained of her weakness, resting into the embrace. Isaac may have been an enemy once, may have tarnished her family's name, the hug itself was probably adding to the insult, but Karst did not care. After everything she had done he was still willing to show compassion.

Maybe she could see why he had managed to defeat her sister and Saturos. Menardi always criticised her for caring for others in battle, for trying to form friendships. She had believed that, laughing as Isaac had dropped his guard when his friend had been injured in Jupiter Lighthouse. Yet… maybe that was his strength, the kindness, and ability to forgive.

Karst swallowed again, leaning into his shoulder, "I'm sorry…"

Isaac merely smiled as he continued to hold the vulnerable pink Proxian, trying to convey that she was safe.

There we are.
What did you think?
Initially it was going to be Karst wondering why Isaac had defeated Menardi and her thinking of ways to beat him, eventually leading to her forcing him to kiss.
I think I prefer the path I took it on though, a little unsure of the ending, but it seems to work, so I'm good.

Thanks for reading!
Your pal,
Droory