Last day of summer break ;n; So have a random fic because I can't focus on reviewing math. Kagepro is far more interesting than trying to relearn sigma notation of a sequence. Of course if I sit down and bang this out and publish it inside of an hour, the plot's bound to be weird, so I apologize in advance.

My usual perception of Kuroha is that he doesn't care about people. They're like insects to him. But forget that because shipping comes above all else. Let's assume the snake has Haruka's memories, and Takane knows about the loops, and we're all set because who even cares about canon.

Review! :D

She looked into the smile and she wondered.

So close yet so far, am I right? a snide hissing voice spat in her mind, and she refused to flinch as the gun bore down on her forehead.

"Any last words?" leered the monster, and she looked into his eyes, searching for any last vestige of the boy she loved. A softening, a kindness, even the hint of a gentle smile, for god's sake, and there was nothing but the barren yellow void.

"Who are you?" Her voice came out strong and confident, unlike her wobbly state of inner affairs, and she mentally scowled. Pull yourself together, Takane, as long as you're on death's door you may as well snark about it. You've been on this line all your life, and this is merely a different means to an end.

And you can stand up a little straighter and be a little more rigid when rigor mortis sets in, so what?

However, it was clear Kuroha was not expecting this strange bravery from her, and it was shown in the smallest of movements, the confused tilt of his head that was achingly familiar. He liked to be in control, that much was pretty well assured from the way he'd acted. The walls of the house were painted in red, and the girl who was screaming was equally red, stained from cradling the assorted corpses.

I too am red. A bullet had lodged right in her shoulder, and it took all her effort even now to not show it. As it was, a dark blot was slowly spreading down her shirtfront.

Takane's heart hurt - to meet this physical world after two years of regretful divorce, to return home, and then have any chances snatched away even before I reached for them. For these friends of mine that I'm likely to join soon, I will fight against you.

"Why, don't you already recognize me?" Kuroha leaned back, twirled the gun around his hand in a familiar way. "Lightning Dancer Ene, and the glutton in the green shirt? None of that's familiar to you?" His smile widened until she thought he would rip his cheeks.

"No, that's not you. That's Haruka, and you shouldn't even say his name. Who are you?"

Kuroha frowned, and that expansive smile shrank down into an ominous line. "I don't remember you being this irritating. Last time, you were much easier to dispose of."

"Well, you are the one with memory issues," she snarked, covering a wince. "You have a faulty host in him."

Kuroha blinked. "Well. I can definitely say I preferred you when you were digitized, but having you as a corporeal being here makes your death all the more satisfying." The cold metal touched her forehead again, and Takane refused to wilt under his lunatic gaze, though she felt like sinking to the floor and cradling her shoulder and giving up.

"You know, any one of the rest of us would've been more suitable. This host of yours has a flaw. At least let him keep his memories, you know?" Her logic by no means made any sense, but it was a half-disguised plea for Haruka back, as if that would ever be likely. At least a few seconds, for pity's sake.

"Sure, the previous host did," Kuroha retorted, clearly irritated. "But he was transformed by his wish, so I am able to use this stronger body." His lips curled at the edges. "What, do you miss him?" He took a moment to pose, to smooth a cheery grin onto his features, and Takane's heart nearly stopped. Oh, the irony of that.

"You-!" Rage was choking her throat, and any thoughts she had of her own fragile mortality were extinguished. She flew at Kuroha, who was unprepared for her attack, and was currently laughing at her despair.

"You've certainly got spunk. I can see why he likes you." With one blow, he forced her back against the wall, where she managed to get back to her feet, despite her head ringing and her arm practically yodeling from where it had hit the wall. She was near where Kano's brains were splattered. Pinkish goo was staining her borrowed clothes.

"You have no right!" The proximity of the brains were adding an edge to her already furious voice, and the place where he'd split her lip a second ago was already starting to swell up. Great. "No right to impersonate him! You're just the monster inside his mind, you crunch up his memories for breakfast, and you're not worthy of being his host." She tried to keep her voice level, level voices sounded more rational, but there was this screaming feeling in her heart that wanted to burst out and yell at him, punch him, inflict some sort of lasting mark.

She couldn't, though, for this body wasn't hers to attack. It was Haruka's. No matter how you end up looking, I'll come and save you. Hadn't she thought that? Hadn't she?

And to you, I keep my promises.

Takane was panting a little, winded, still in terrible shape. Worse shape than usual, actually, seeing as she was kept in a test tube for two years. No time to work out in there. Why am I not dead already? she thought, a little belatedly. And apparently she voiced it, too, for the snake in human's clothing started laughing.

"Because-"

His face twisted a little, shuddered a little, and was that fear glinting in his eyes for the shortest second? Like a spark, extinguished, and then there was a tiny flare of something aside from the usual brew of sadistic pleasure lurking in those yellow orbs. Either that, or she was going insane from the siren wailing in her arm. Her mouth tasted like blood.

Kuroha's face re-fit itself over the features, features that seemed designed to look evil, cruel, malicious, and nothing like the boy she loved. It was a magic trick. There was no trace - (but the flare)- of Haruka in here. But she knew it, knew, and if it was only a feeling created by dying (surely this bleeding arm of mine is spilling my life out, and I'll have died pitifully after all, and I'm already exhausted, not from being sick...) then so be it. It was a thread to cling to. "Because I'm not done with you yet. But if you insist, then I'll oblige you."

There was a bang and then a stunningly bright explosion in her ear- but no pain. None. Now her ears were ringing, coupling with the pulses washing through her head from the fall earlier, and she wondered if his intent was to concuss her or deafen her or something. "Can't you just make up your mind?" she tried to shout, though it only came out as a whisper. Pathetic.

Kuroha was staring at his hand as if he'd never seen it before, and then switching his gaze to the hole in the floor right next to her head. "What a shame." The not-him flicker in his eyes was bigger, and then he blinked and the abnormality was was gone. "This time, I won't fail."

There was a thunderclap, and then Takane wasn't able to keep her voice locked inside of her. Red tinged her vision, then darkness, and a frantic thought - is this it? No. I don't want this to be it, I -

A wild miasma of shapes and colors, and then shapes and sounds resolved themselves back into their bodies. This unstable platform she'd dragged herself out of the darkness onto didn't seem like it was much more than a temporary form of living, and if she dipped back in again, she knew she wouldn't be able to make it out.

Kuroha was kneeling next to her with an un-Kuroha-like expression on his face. Was that...worry? And those were tears, weren't they? The eyes showed not just a hint of the kindness she loved, but they were entirely his eyes, and Takane finally got it. Shooting her - that was too much for the buried personality, and it woke from its slumber and grappled the monster and won, for however temporarily.

"Haruka." She tried to smile, but the blood dripping from her mouth ruined the effect. "Here we meet again."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the tears feeling like cool footsteps on her arm. "I was too late again." And those yellow eyes met hers, and the sheer torment in them ripped at her heart. His mental agony was likely worse than her current physical pains, and that was saying something because she felt like her spine had been obliterated.

She reached up with a shaking limb to touch a tear, to see if it was really real and not some terrible figment. The tear was wet, his skin was smooth and warm. "Now, don't cry. You're probably going to see me again in the next loop..." Which was a terribly ineffective thing to say. If he only got to see her after he'd mortally wounded her, then it was horrible. Put a damper on your nastiness, Takane, there's no time for it, she reminded herself.

If they ever got out of this vicious cycle intact, Haruka wouldn't be the same carefree boy she pinned her heart on. He'd be different, darker, scarred, and how did he feel about murdering everyone? If he came out of this still sane, then it'd be a wonder. What I have to do right now is keep him happy. I'm dying anyway; but I have to do this the best way possible, because if what we've learned is right, then I'll simply come back again...

"Takane, I don't think I can bear this much longer," Haruka told her, tears plopping rhythmically. "I can never save anyone in time. Every time I try, they suffer the worse for it, and it hurts. It seems all I can do sometimes is force this monster to lose its host."

It took her a few moments to realize he was talking about suicide, and the thought of the boy, radiant in his happiness, reduced to this, made tears come to her eyes. With a little effort, she lifted one arm to the other side of his body.

"What are you doing?" Some of his morbid thoughts drained away, to be replaced with curiosity.

"I'm giving you a hug, dammit. You need one." Without waiting for him to reply, she pulled him down until they were in an awkward lying-down hug.

"Aren't I crushing you?" Haruka tried to free himself, voice saturated with worry, but Takane's grip was strangely firm. "Eh, right now," she breathed, "that's the least of my worries." And the boy smiled despite himself.

"I've missed you," she said to the side of his head. "I'm glad you're here now."

"Not for long," Haruka murmured, and his voice sounded surprisingly damp.

"Oi, snap out of that." It was getting harder for her to talk, but she forced herself through the haziness. Haruka, I... To cover her own tears, she said, "Isn't it normally the other way around, anyway? The doomed person having to be comforted?"

"You're not doomed," said Haruka fiercely. "Stop saying that."

"I know I'm not doomed," she retorted. "One day we'll break this loop. That's certain, since these snakes can only go around in circles. We move forwards. And we will." The terrible, invasive pain that had been threading her mind with sparks was dying down, which was both good and bad. The former, because she could actually think clearly now, and the latter, because it meant the darkness was encroaching on her. But I know I'll live again...if nothing else comes of this eternal summer, at least I'm never dead for long.

Saying that had taken a lot out of her. It was getting dark inside her mind, and her extremities were beyond numb. The only good side to this is that it doesn't hurt anymore...ah, what the hell, I'm dying.

"Haruka, I love you," Takane blurted out, and his cheek, pressed against hers, moved. She felt him smile, and he turned his head and lightly brushed her cheek with his lips. If she'd had enough blood in her, she was sure she would've blushed glaring crimson. Red, like blood. Red, like a hero. "You say that every time," he whispered.

"Well, every time it's true." The words were barely audible, barely forced out of her wooden lips. So cold...

"When we get out of here...will you go on a date with me?" Haruka was probably blushing. He was still smiling, that much she knew, and on her last breath, she said, "Of course."

And then she was a stone-cold corpse in his arms.

Haruka took a moment to close her eyes, kiss her lips, and hug her tightly enough that some of her blood stained Kuroha's clothing before turning to the medusa, who'd been silently watching, eyes hollow. The snake was already climbing out of the abyss he'd managed to briefly banish it to.

"We both want to go back," he said, voice ragged with suppressed tears. "So do it. Take us back for another go in this vicious cycle, and may we remember early this time." The snake was singing through his veins now, but it wasn't at its full strength yet.

"See you next round," said the medusa vaguely, almost dismissively, and Haruka-Kuroha bowed his head. Scales pattered up her body, and the splinters of wings shot out like spears.

The face of the world was ripped away.