Warning: panic attack, mentions of death. Arsha.
Bansha wasn't sure what happened. One moment she was perfectly fine, ready to go destroy the Ninja at her Mistress's wish. They would be gone, along with that green brat that broke her friend beyond repair.
Then, the next second, she was gasping for breath.
Which, when you think, would be quite a puzzling thing to do, as ghosts are dead, therefor not needing any oxygen for their bodies to function, since they are merely a soul with a sense of direction.
Call it habit, as unshedable tears formed in her eyes from flashbacks. She could see Soul Archer's dead body, merely sixteen years old. They've been stuck here for twenty years, ripping away most of their life. But... all Bansha could see was her Archie's scared expression and blood pooling around his white skin.
"No," she gasped, feeling the Preeminent's snickering voice in her head. She would torture her ghosts to do what she pleased, or just for the fun of it. They couldn't run away from her, so they were left to suffer. "Stop! Stop!"
Sobs wracked her translucent body, making her shake as her tail formed to legs and she fell to the ground. "Don't, please... stop..."
What did she do to deserve this? What did she do to be taken to the Cursed Realm instead of the Departed Realm? She should have had a happy afterlife, but instead, she was stuck here. Not quite the Underworld but yet not the Departed Realm.
She didn't deserve it. To be stuck in this world, having a panic attack as she was now, barely thinking...
"Bansha..." She heard a quiet voice behind her, as arms wrapped around her torso and a head rested calmly on her shoulders. "Breathe. Even it out. Slowly." She listened, slowing the unnecessary inhales and exhales until she didn't anymore.
"Thanks..." she muttered quietly. Soul Archer only gave a sad smile as the other ghost turned to face him. "I just... I saw you..." her voice shook as she quivered like a leaf blowing in the wind. Soul Archer immediately knew she wasn't talking about him, Soul Archer. Him, Seth. Soul Archer pushed the thoughts aside, as he wrapped his arms around the other comfortingly.
"I know, and I know it hurts. Everyday. But we can't reverse time. Not without consequence." Soul Archer watched as Bansha's eyes grew cold, rebuilding her mask. He took pride in being on of the few that could see the real her, as she probably did for him.
But right now he needed her to loosen up, to talk to him. "I know," she spoke finally, "but it doesn't stop the pain."
Soul Archer gently pulled back the hood of Bansha's mask, exposing black hair and deep blue eyes. He smiled gently. "There's my songbird."
Bansha's eyes slowly met his as he pulled off his hood, green eyes staring in her blue. He wrapped his hands around her neck, leaning closer so their foreheads touched. Soul Archer hesitated on what to say.
Relationships were not a thing in the Cursed Realm, mostly because if they even were married, the significant other would be somewhere else, forcing the ghost to be forever alone. But even through that, there was just none. The Preeminent didn't allow it.
Soul Archer couldn't care less. As long as he had his songbird at his side, he would be willing to go through any pain just to stay.
Bansha was his world, and it nearly broke when she rested her chin on his shoulder and cried more. "I hate having to pretend we're evil, that we're the villains trying to take out the Ninja. I hate that green one for hurting Morro... but I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to be forced to hurt them, though."
The archer ran his fingers through her hair, in a soothing attempt to calm her. "It's alright. You're here. With me. We're safe."
The banshee ghost nodded slowly, slowly relaxing all the tension she didn't realize she had. Soul Archer smiled, as he pulled away to face her and tilt up her chin. "I love you, my songbird."
Bansha smiled, as their fingers intertwined. "I love you too."
And they kissed.