DISCLAIMER- CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THEY BELONG TO 07th-EXPANSION

OTP's – Battler x Beatrice (NOTE: The dialogue is spoken by Battler :D AND FROM BEATO :D)

CRITIQUES AND REVIEWS ARE WELCOME.

Nothing.

Nothing ever disturbs the composed night's peace. It has never disturbed, nor will it. The purpose for a night is to spend the last minutes you had in a day, and start new ones in the following. Events become memories; fragments that will cling onto your mind until a new set is created.

The overlay of stars were scattered all over the sky;only the twinkly light of them illuminating the day's end. The labyrinth that decorates the Golden Land was adorned with a variety of red, white and pink flowers. The fragrance of it welcomed the invited souls of those who reached the promised place. Watching the golden butterflies;they flutter around the maze of greenery as their transparent wings gradually, upon kissing the roses' petals. Some of them vanish, some reappear, and they never die out.

Supposedly this was said to be the land of no suffering, but, it was proved wrong. Why? Because the gears of fate altered it, by the hand of a young man.

Battler's heart ached every time he thought about Beatrice. She was always so mischievous, proud and friendly, but now, she was nothing more than a useless doll. A useless doll that lost hope, never wanting to live again.

"You've always listened to my wishes, but you never did grant them the way I wanted you to. Is there a wish you'd want me to grant?"

But her wish had never been granted. Instead, it was only manipulated into a nightmare, completely changed from happiness to dejection. Bind to the chains of despair and torture, the Golden Witch could only suffer the obstacles that were in front of her. Mostly would her eyes lose its brightness into a dark semi-dead color and her face would become rosy white, but also pale. He could almost see chains attached to her ankles, that was, only noticed by his eyes.

"Are you scared to talk to me?"

"..."

Only her eyes would tell him: yes, and no. It was all entirely confusing for Battler; and also pointless. He couldn't understand the reason. He couldn't understand the game at all. He couldn't understand her at all. It was no use looking back at the four games. Battler still couldn't see what's the purpose in solving the epitaph.

"What...Do you want from me?"

"..."

Once again, Battler had stopped to a dead end. A wall of unsolved riddles blocked his path to the trap he was lured into. It was indeed like a closed room, with no exits;no chances of escaping. The only way for him to escape is to solve the riddles, thus breaking the wall, in order to continue his quest. But this solution hasn't come up to his mind, and that is, perhaps the reason why Beatrice thought him to be incompetent.

At times, he would try to take Beatrice's hand, but stopped. Battler couldn't bring himself to touch it. Finally, when annoyed at himself he'd reached out for her hand, that was resting all by itself, inches away from her cup. The tea had been long chilled, but Beatrice didn't care. When both their hands met, Battler could only feel the shivery cold in hers, realizing that her pain was much more than hell.

"I was the one who made you suffer...Didn't I."

"... .."

After those words would the witch look away and hang her head low. Battler knew that this will cause her more pain, but he just had to say it. The heat from her fingertips were gone, and they weren't shaking anymore. Battler clutched it, trying to share his warmth with her but to only fail in the end.

"I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for ignoring you all the time, Beato. I was the one who put you all this torture, and because of that...

I'm sorry."

". .."

Those words were close enough to reach Beatrice's heart, piercing through the shields of despair and hatred to the meta-physical form that was trapped there. Still, the witch wouldn't react. She could only blink, a few times, and turn to look at Battler's face.

The man was looking back at her, wanting to see if Beatrice had received his words. He held a firmer grip of the hand, not wanting to part from it, and to lock his fingers around it.

Beatrice would slowly nodded, the warmth in her eyes forming together whole, to create the acceptance of his apology. Such that Battler's reflection would reflect on her eyes, only for a short period of time. But, in Battler's eyes, there would stand her reflection. It wasn't the form of her in pain, but just standing there, as if waiting.

Because it was waiting. Waiting for Battler to solve the epitaph, and to return home.

But the most she wanted to wait for,

was to wait for the time they would both meet again.

"Nn."

Aw man. I'm done. D: