"Goodbye … accept the reality of your death."

He's on the ground, and that voice – how it sparks along every raw, open nerve in him, crackling along the edge of his spine and sounding almost like bones grinding in his ears – it resonates through him as a tangible thing, strikes every chord in him that incites any reaction. He feels the hands coming for him, grabbing and pulling, and he'll fight them as long as he can, just so long as it gives him a few more precious seconds, maybe the other three can find a way to get themselves out –

"Not you!"

She shoves him out of the way first, so much smaller than he is, but so much stronger than anyone has ever given her credit for, and he turns just in time to see the shadows curl themselves around her. Drag her under with clawed fingers unyielding, and his heart stops. Nothing remains, not even the red band she wears in her hair or the fan she wields as an extension of herself, rather than something simple as a weapon.

His heart stops, as does his breath, but the shadows don't. Again, they reach for him as he hears a distant "get up, get up!" and he grits his teeth against a dizzying wave of fatigue, of weariness that he can feel down in his very bones.

"Not a chance!"

No … no, not you, please not you. Don't you even think –

Again, he's shoved to the side, and a flash of black-and-gold kunai reach the edge of his peripheral vision as he whips around. A glint, a glimmer, and he thinks he sees that trademark smirk that he's so accustomed to as he reaches for him. Grasps nothing but empty air as he disappears, and this time his heart doesn't just stop. It breaks, shatters, falls against the cage of his ribs like tiny pieces of tempered glass, cutting all the way down.

A third time. He's breathless and gasping for air that won't come, straining against the ache he can feel encompassing every bit of him, sharp and so much more real than anything that has yet come to pass. His heart is broken and heavy, but still he tries, bracing both hands against the shifting ground as he heaves himself forward, away from those searching hands.

"Look out!"

That last hit comes harder than the two before it, and he ends up sprawled on his hands and knees as the boy behind him is engulfed. Blond hair and the glitter of silver studs, a flash of anger and such sincere loyalty that he could never have mistaken it for anything else. Nothing, nothing remains and the silence – spanning the next harsh intake of breath, a scant few seconds – is deafening, and he swears he can hear what remains of his heart tick-tick-ticking in a painfully miserable way against the otherwise hollow cavity of his chest.

"It's unfortunate that our battle must end this way …"

"No … get up! We came so far –"

And again the silence comes, this time, almost comforting; soft, like a blanket warmed by the sun wrapped around his shoulders. Peaceful, undemanding, a respite he's needed since this all began, but could never quite get. The most he's gotten is a moment here or there, just enough to close his eyes and remind himself that what he's done, he's done it for a reason. That there are people counting on him to lead them, they look to him for guidance, reassurance, friendship.

This … this will last. Won't it? He deserves that much, doesn't he?

… ?

What's the matter, Yu? Isn't it too early to give up?

You can keep going, right partner?

No – don't leave me – ! I'm scared.

Yu-kun … Can you hear me? Don't close your eyes yet … please get back up. Just one more time.

Senpai … please stand up just one more time. We'll be your strength …

If you stay down, I won't forgive you.

I've had enough with losing the people most precious to me. I don't want to lose you too.

… But no one is truly alone in this world. You know that, since you've protected those precious to you, right? C'mon, people are waiting for you.

Big … bro …

The voices. All of them – they're nothing more than whispers, a tickle at the back of a tired mind, a constant hum that has his eyes flickering open. Slowly, at first, as his gaze focuses on the endless expanse of hazy white, and he cringes as he stands straight, determined even though everything in him feels shattered.

Behind him, he feels the familiar power of Izanagi. The thrum of electricity, ever-present as though he continuously walks beneath live wires, the fine hair at the back of his neck standing on end; but there's a shift, a push, a flicker of something more – and his persona is reborn, refreshed, looming above him with the kind of formidable power that can see him through.

That can see him to the end of this.

Once again he stands before her, renewed, strong – and those seeking, questing hands miss their mark. Gray eyes stare her down, gaze narrowed and sharp, all but feral as the first of the blows comes down on him, and he doesn't flinch.

Crack!

His eyes are closed. Squeezed tightly shut and behind them he sees the flash of a shy smile, dark hair, the sound of laughter that resonates through his entire being. A chastising huff from another, a complaint that she always laughs at the most inopportune times, even if she ends up shaking her head as though she simply does not know what to do with the one now taken under by a fit of giggles.

Crack!

A tiny voice asks him if they can build a snowman when the snow starts falling, because she's never been able to build one of her own, not even with her own father. He's too busy, too taken in by protecting everyone else, but she isn't lonely. She isn't lonely, because she has him, and that's good enough for her.

A voice nearly as small, far more flustered thanks him for helping her solve the case of the Phantom Thief – and for helping bring her to the realization that she's just fine the way she is. As a woman, as a detective, as herself, and that will always be good enough for her.

A small, warm body presses against his side, an arm linking with his, and asks him if he has plans for the afternoon. There's somewhere she wants to go, something she wants to show him – even though he's already gotten to see the real her, and not just what she puts on for everyone else. She smiles, and the very corners of her eyes crinkle, and he knows it's genuine.

Crack!

An outstretched hand. Fingertips slightly calloused from stocking shelves and picking at a guitar that he'd never learned how to play properly, a lopsided smile that has only ever seemed to be for him. One that warms him to his very core no matter how many times he sees it, just for the fact that it never wavers, even when the one giving it isn't so sure of himself.

Let's go, partner.

He does it for them. He does it for all of them – bears down on his resolve and stands his ground, and once again, behind him, Izanagi stands guard. Silent. Solid. They stand together, and they stand as one. There is something they have to prove – and the truth will no longer fall on silent ears.

At his side once more, his friends, their strength offered to him is made manifest. Tangible.

She hadn't known them at all.