The first time she saw him, Takumi wore a scowl. She met it the way she met the warm greetings of her siblings; with a smile. No one could say she didn't try. Even when his comments dripping with disgust hurt, even when he glared and folded his arms, even when he scoffed as she spoke. But every scowl drove a sliver of ice into her heart.

Corrin smiled in return. She would just have to get used to him. To his distrust, to the scowls and glares and biting words. But just as fast as she'd been welcomed into Hoshido, into this new family, it shattered beneath her just as quick.

The mother she'd never known, dead. Torn between two families, could she be blamed for seeking familiarity? For seeking the only home she'd ever known? And the glare that he'd worn was nothing like before. His words dripped with hatred. His bow aimed at her heart.

She met his gaze as if she felt nothing. She swallowed the pain, the desire that things could be different. She returned to Nohr as if nothing had changed.

But it had. Everything had changed.


She hadn't been prepared to see him again. He led an army, fuelled with resent. He burned from her betrayal. A glare like ice, soldiers at his heel, he faced her, spitting venom with his words. They stung sharper than his arrows. She tasted them like bile in her throat, swallowed it and wished she could face him without regret.

Everything in her screamed in protest.

He was her brother.

She was under orders.

He was her brother.

They were in her way.

His retainers cried of her betrayal, an echo that followed her through the battle. There was nothing she could say, no way to voice the pain, the regret that tore through her. But it was too late to feel remorse. She let his words wash over her. She pretended not to feel their sting.

In the end, their strength won the day. She offered him what she could, the remnants of mercy she held dearly, close to her heart, only hoping he could understand.

And he'd screamed. He roared and spat and saw straight through her. His eyes, that sharp, cutting glare of his, sliced right to her core. He bore an anger that was rightfully his. An anger that longer to tear her down.

She'd dismissed it as just that; anger. She turned her back to him once more, and let him leave. His words followed her from there. They haunted her dreams. Made her hold her sword that little bit tighter, made her stand that little bit taller.

His words had rung true. She was a traitor. She was weapon. And if he thought she had no soul left inside then she could embrace that too. If she became steel then she wouldn't have to feel. She wouldn't have to feel the weight of his words, the scars they'd left behind.


The next time she saw him, he called her Sister. For a moment she couldn't breathe. Her knuckles bled white around her sword, and she became steel. She felt the blur of his arrow by her cheek and it may as well have pierced her heart. But she was stronger than that. She was steel, a dragon born in darkness. He could aim his hatred, his words, his bow, at her. She could take it.

When he aimed at Elise, Corrin shut her emotions down. The uprising ended in rivers of blood. It ended with Takumi becoming someone Corrin didn't know.

She'd never known him. Never known he was capable of such hatred. But then, she hadn't known herself capable of compliance in the face of horrors.

They had changed. This war had tainted them both.


In Izumo, when he first laid eyes on her, he was silent. His needed no words to voice his disgust, only a silent glare that cut just as deep. Even when Xander and Ryoma exchanged heated words, he remained silent. Only when she'd rescued them from Zola had Takumi spat at her once more. She hadn't forgotten the venom in his words, the stinging rage, and pain throbbed in her heart like an old bruise.

This time, she couldn't offer him a smile. She felt numb under his glare. It was only for a fleeting moment, but no fight broke out between them. They dined together, under the roof of Izumo, despite the animosity in the air.

They didn't speak, and Corrin quashed the emotions that built inside her. They were metres apart, yet it felt like the dark expanse of the Bottomless Canyon stretched between them.

It was for the best, she told herself.

She almost believed it until they met again.


Everything was collapsing beneath her. Sakura wasn't eating, she wasn't speaking. The massacre of Hoshidan's had scarred the young royal. Corrin may have been able to save Sakura, but with the youngest as their prisoner, it became apparent that no one believed there would be any use in keeping Takumi alive.

Takumi. Leading Hoshido's core legion, guarding the Great Wall of Suzanoh.

In the same breath he cursed her, he taunted her. Called her his 'dear sister.' She swallowed it all, pushed his words deep down inside her. She wouldn't think about it. She couldn't.

Not now.

They'd gone too far for regrets.

The Hoshidan's rallied for her death. They fought until they had nothing left, no strength in their bones, their blood staining the grass. And she fought his retainers. There was such rage, such determination in their eyes it took all she could do not to falter.

She made the mistake of hearing their final words. She shut it down. Shut everything down inside her so she wuoldn't feel. She was steel.

For the glory of Nohr.

Even after his defeat, Takumi spat venom at her. Even hearing Sakura was their prisoner, he snapped away from her. His back to the sky, brown eyes burning with rage at her. He cursed her with every breath. Even as his words turned to sobs and tears cut down his face. The display had Corrin frozen. Takumi fell apart before her, sobbing and cursing until his words became indecipherable from his cries.

She had no answer for him, no words would form.

He was silhouetted against the burning sky before she could react. The wind whipped his hair off his face, red and streaked with tears. There was a gasp of silence as he tipped backwards.

The ground fell out beneath her. She was by the wall in a breath, heart caught in her throat, a scream tearing from her lungs, expecting to see him hit the ground. Expecting to see his body broken, mangled and bloody on the grass.

There was nothing.

And she searched and searched and searched. From the edge of the wall to the trees, through the long grass, even as her wounds ached and bled. She ignored the burning of her lungs. She ignored the tears that flowed without abandon.

There was no trace of him there. The fall that should have broken him broke her instead.


Then, he was before her, no longer the Prince he had once been. The war had stripped everything from him, leaving only an empty shell, a husk. A corpse that had once been her brother.

The arrow that should have killed her sealed his fate. She held him tightly, pressed his head to her shoulder, as she drove her sword through his chest. His blood spilled over her fingers. He was shaking in her arms – no, that was her. Her fingers wove into his hair as she drew him closer. It was soft. It draped over her hand and down his back and they fell to their knees.

He slumped against her as tears dripped from her eyes. He was cold against her. Her grip slipped from her sword and went to his back. His final words brushed her ear. Something inside her, deep, deep inside her, snapped. She had freed his soul and in doing so, he had freed her own. She cried, holding him against her, as he slipped away from her for good.

His last moments stayed with her for a long time after. Her family would find her standing silently, eyes heavenward, always searching for the sun, long, long after the war. It was said that even as Corrin departed Hoshido, a part of her remained behind.

Hidden in the Hoshidan palace stood three graves, a monument to the three royals lost in the war. Queen Mikoto, Prince Ryoma, and Prince Takumi. Behind them, stuck into the earth, was a single sword. No one knew where it came from, who placed it there. But it was stuck in the ground and wouldn't move, regardless of who tried. No one knew why.

No one knew it was the very sword that had saved them, a sword that carried regrets heavier than anyone could imagine. Regrets that, even as Corrin left her sword behind, never were far from her mind.

It's said that sometimes, a lone woman stands by those graves. A woman with long, silver hair, in garb that was neither Hoshidan nor Nohrian. Every year, on the same day, she would appear, and stand in silence.

At times, there were tears in her eyes.

And sometimes, if you listen very closely, you can hear her whisper faint words of gratitude.