A/N: From TV Tropes (still a black hole time suck):
"An old Japanese myth says that if two star-crossed lovers commit dual suicide, they get reincarnated as twins."
"That sounds like a prompt for an amazing/disturbing Romeo and Juliet sequel."
In the moment they decided, in the moment they drank the drop and drew the dagger, in the moment they died - they were in love.
Here's to my love!
O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
Thy lips are warm.
Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!
This is thy sheath;
There rust, and let me die.
They didn't know, of course.
It was an escape. "I must be with you," to "I can't bear to be without you," to, "You are worth any hell I might find." Simple, to their minds, at that point. Some call it sweet, some call it stupid, some call it love, whatever that means.
They didn't commit suicide together, really. But the intent was there. They died because they could not bear to live apart. Someone, somewhere, takes pity on those who do. Not always in a way we like. They have strange ideas of love and loyalty, stranger still of pity; their compassion is unrecognizable. If either understood what would happen, truly, I don't know that either would have died with that intent.
They didn't know, of course.
Nine months of rest. Everything else could come later: the switch, the consequences, the cross stars that would stay with them still. But not now.
Now, right now, they had nine warm, dark, quiet months.