"You almost died, and now you want to kill yourself?" He screams, lashing his tail in frustration. She can't hear. She stands at the edge of the cliff numbly, looking down at the ocean below, deafened by the taunting of the waves.
"Listen to me!" the Arcanine cries, almost pleads, "Ninetales, just listen!"
She finally turns, something in her ruby eyes replaced by emptiness.
"Please," she says, and Arcanine's heart wrenches, "Arcanine, I've seen too much. I've killed too many. You can't stop me, Arcanine. The war will be over where I'll be. Don't be sad. I won't have to kill anybody anymore. You'll see me again someday. You can let me go. This way, there's less pain for everyone. I'm choosing how I die. I don't want to have my throat ripped out by my friends, or worse, I don't want to live until I'm old with what I've done."
She pauses, taking a longing glance at her death below her, and says quietly, "Just let me go."
Arcanine is fast to say, "No." He sits down next to her, "I can't. Ninetales, we can survive this. We can survive the war and live out our happy ever after," his heart leaps, and he repeats, "Happy ever after, Ninetales. You want that, right?"
Ninetales looks down again and prods the cliff edge, "We can't. Even if Pokémon do wipe out humankind, what can we do? Do you know how many people I've killed?"
Suddenly she is angry, literally ablaze with anger, flames rippling through her coat and her nine long tails standing on end, "Do you, Arcanine? Sixteen. I killed my trainer. I killed more than my trainer. Arcanine, I've been killing innocent humanity every day, and that's only directly. I have had to wash out sixteen different bloodstains from my coat, not counting the ones who I've exploded, burned, driven insane, or blinded! Arcanine, come on. Do you know what it's like? Going out every day to fight a war against our friends? No, you stay at home. You tend flowers, Arcanine, flowers. Have you ever been fighting a human sword-on-teeth? Have you been away from home for over two years, to fight in trenches against an enemy you don't hate? Have you seen your son die in front of you?"
She claws fiercely at the rock in front of her, but her anger has subsided. Wearily, Ninetales mumbles, "I don't have to be talking to you. I could do it right now."
Arcanine's fur ripples in shock, and he quickly tries a different approach, "P-please don't. I mean, talk with me for a little while. I can tell you what's going on."
Ninetales is still looking down, but she smiles sadly, "Shoot."
Arcanine launches into a speech he prepared for when his mate came home, but he didn't expect to first see her like this. He was only supposed to be gathering mountain poppies, for Arceus's sake! But here he is, trying to talk her out of suicide. Funny how events turn out, he thinks bitterly.
"Vulpix is growing up to be like you. She's a rebel, she is. Wants to join the army with you someday. She keeps on trying on your old assault vests. They're way too big for her."
Ninetales forces another smile down her throat as a picture of her daughter inside the cave of an oversized vest rises in her mind. Damnit, this isn't how it's supposed to go!
"And Growlithe, he's daddy's boy. He's learned ember already. Big, beautiful little guy. He won the art award for walking over a canvas with red paint on his feet. He called it 'Mommy's footprints'," Arcanine clears his throat, "You know, they're waiting for you to come back. They're at Rapidash's right now. Growlithe wants to teach their little girl ember."
"What a little ladies' man," Ninetales' voice cracks as she says it.
"Please. Ninetales, don't do this to yourself. To the kids. Think of our kids. What am I supposed to tell them if I let you die?"
Ninetales, again, claws at the surface beneath her. A few pebbles break free and plummet into the sea. She stares at their ripples, swallowed by a wave.
"Ninetales!" Arcanine's voice shrills, and Ninetales realizes she is falling, the rock below her suddenly no more. She looks up and Arcanine is there, screaming for her, watching her descent with terrified brown eyes.
Their first meeting. A little Growlithe puppy, offering to play with a lonely little Vulpix. The Vulpix's voice catches in her throat, and she can't speak, only nod.
Their first date. An outgoing Growlithe taking a shy Vulpix to see the stars. They sit in silence and watch the moon wink at them.
Their first kiss. An Arcanine too small for his big body awkwardly pecking a Vulpix too big for her small body. The Vulpix smiles, blushes, and wants more.
Their wedding. An Arcanine and a Ninetales adorned with lots of white flowers. They kiss passionately now, wedded by a Magmortar in a becoming white tie.
Their first egg. A protective Arcanine sleeping next to a small Vulpix, sticky with egg fluids, warming him with his body heat. A proud Ninetales licks her first son happily.
Ninetales jolts to action, scrabbling at the rocky face with her claws, wailing. She only manages to slow her descent. Arcanine is roaring at her, roaring her name, and she realizes she loves him too much to die.
"No!" she cries passionately, digging her claws in further. She gouges a long claw-path in the cliff face, but the rock keeps giving way to her weight. It is too soft to hold her.
"You can't die this way!" Arcanine pleads.
"I love you!" Ninetales calls before a wave washes over her head. There is a second of sheer, excruciating pain, but soon she fades into an empty, empty white.