Looks like this is a little shorter than the first. Whoops.

It's a little weird for me to use the name 'Sissel' for a girl now. In fact, I keep mentally transplanting Sissel for Yomiel. That happens when a protagonist named Sissel who was actually named after someone else's fiancée takes on the appearance of said someone else for over three-quarters of the game.

Obviously, the personality of fiancée-Sissel is entirely from my head and I really kept her appearance vague...I would feel uncomfortable with cementing it too much. And Yomiel's personality...I really don't know much about that either. His first appearance doesn't really define him. You can get his real personality from the final chapter, but it's not quite long enough to develop him beyond 'he's not a bad guy but he's depressed awwwww.' Not that I'm saying he's a bad character. He's practically my favorite. I'm just saying it's a little hard to really grab his personality, I think...gaaah, this is really hard to describe. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've pretty much made his personality like Sissel's (cat). Rather serious, possibly a bit aloof, a bit of wry humor. (That could probably be explained away by pets taking on their owner's attributes. But that's a stupid hand-wave.)

Somewhat related to this point, my sister has commented that I've written Sissel (fiancée) rather like Lynne. I was sort of hoping I wouldn't, but I guess if I was subconsciously writing Yomiel like Sissel, then I would then link his closest relationship with the only mature female character Sissel really interacted with. So thus, shades of Lynne comes out to provide a preconceived foil for Yomiel who has shades of Sissel.

I don't know why I'm talking about this. Just read it already and watch me fumble around with things I've not completely thought out yet. Hope you can still enjoy it. And oh man I sure don't know how to end things like these.


Almost immediately after he was wheeled into his cell, where he would be spending the next ten years in, he was wheeled back out to meet a visitor that had apparently been waiting there for quite a while.

He was not at all surprised to see who it was on the other side of the glass window.

Sissel had her hair up in a high ponytail and, as usual, her bangs threatened to blind her. Yomiel couldn't help but think that the little bow she tied on was quite adorable. It looked like she had just gotten out of work, dressed formally as she was, but Yomiel knew that she should have gotten off work hours ago. Her hands were clasped in front of her face, but she immediately stood up when she saw him.

The guard wheeled him up to the window and stepped off to the back of the room to at least give them some privacy.

Sissel definitely wanted to say something. He could tell very easily. But she seemed reluctant to say it for now, so he started the conversation instead. "Sorry for the wait," he said with half a smile.

"It's okay, I only waited…" She paused to glance at her watch. "…Woah! Four hours!"

"…Did you even eat lunch…?"

"I, uh, can eat after," Sissel replied, getting over her shock and now delving back into worry as she started playing with her hair.

And that was when the conversation drifted off into an awkward silence. The guard behind Yomiel shifted slightly. After a while, the silence finally prodded Sissel into saying what she really wanted to say.

"It's unfair!"

"What is?" Yomiel asked, though he was sure he knew what she meant.

"Ten years! And you're still in a wheelchair! How could they! Why would they decide that!"

Actually I was the one who wanted the sentence due to my guilt about my actions in an alternate timeline, or at least that's what I think it is, I really haven't gotten any evidence to support it, but that's what it feels like and I guess I'm just going with gut instincts here. "I dunno."

And now Sissel was leaning over in her chair, her hands clutching her head tightly. Then she looked up. "Do they think you're still a spy?"

"Well," Yomiel started.

"I can't allow you to talk about that," the guard interjected with a stony face.

Yomiel cringed as Sissel shouted, "What! Why?" It was never a particularly good idea to tell her what she couldn't do, especially with no explanation.

"Since I'm accused of leaking national secrets, I don't think it's a particularly good idea to talk about the possibility of me leaking national secrets."

That at least calmed her down, though she still didn't seem happy. In fact, she pouted. It was a little adorable. "'S not true, though," she muttered, and the guard coughed meaningfully. She glanced at him before moving on. "What about our wedding, though?"

Behind his shades, Yomiel glanced down at Sissel's hand. The small band of gold glinted even in the dim lighting. "I suppose we'll have to postpone."

"But we planned it all out! We were getting ready! I bought the invitations!" As Yomiel wondered why the last one was the one emphasized, he thought he heard the guard behind him silently losing his composure. The thought would have made him smile, except there was a very upset fiancée in front of him who would probably not appreciate it.

"Well," he started.

"WE CAN HOLD THE MARRIAGE IN PRISON!" Sissel interjected. Quite seriously.

It took a while for Yomiel to respond. "I…don't think we could do that." Or should.

"Prisons aren't equipped to hold marriages, ma'am, only prisoners," the guard added, probably proud of that little joke he made there.

Sissel's expression slowly grew from determination to uncertainty. This was usually how her not-so-well-thought-out ideas ended. "Oh."

"I'd actually rather get married in a more conventional place. Getting married in a prison seems a little…depressing. And how many guests would actually come?"

"Yeah, you're right," she sighed. "I just…I just wish we didn't have to wait for ten years…" She glanced downward for a moment before continuing. "You'll be alright here, won't you? I mean…with your, um, condition…"

"It isn't that bad. You don't have to make it sound so serious." Though he had to admit that the casts were still damn itchy. The IV drip was worse because that was itchy too and he was able to scratch it, but it wasn't exactly a great idea to scratch the place where a needle was sticking out of and it was seriously getting harder to stop himself from scratching it.

"It is serious! You can't even walk!"

"But I'll get better," Yomiel pointed out. "Not everybody's as lucky."

Sissel went back to playing with her hair. "Yeah…I guess…but what about…uh…other prisoners?"

"…Are you asking if I'll get bullied by other prisoners…?"

"It's a legitimate worry!" she cried out, slamming her palms on the counter.

"I wouldn't worry, ma'am, as considering his injuries, we have guards monitoring him closely as well as a trained doctor on hand in case something happens," the guard chimed in from the back of the room.

"But, but, but, how can I pass ten years without you?" Sissel blurted out before flushing as she glanced at the guard, who was bravely trying to keep up his stoic expression but failing. "I-I mean…how could I just keep going on with my life normally, knowing you're in prison but not knowing if you're okay until the next time I can visit…?"

Yomiel stayed silent. Staring at Sissel, he was almost tempted to ask for the five-year sentence again. But his gut told him that the punishment was too important. Really? More important than the mental health of his fiancée?

His gut agreed that, when you put it like that, that sounded extremely cruel. But it was also quite stubborn. He would understand in time.

This debate distracted him slightly from the fact that Sissel was getting another idea and he was only alerted to this when she suddenly shouted, "I'LL SPEND THE NEXT TEN YEARS IN PRISON TOO!"

This time Yomiel just couldn't bring himself to respond quickly enough. The guard beat him to it. "Ma'am, even if we allowed you to join your fiancé in prison, you would not be allowed to interact with him freely due to safety procedures."

"Oh."

"You'd have to abandon your job and your friends too," Yomiel pointed out. "You probably wouldn't like the food, either."

"…And they don't actually put women and men in the same prisons," Sissel admitted, looking sad and embarrassed at the same time.

"Don't worry, okay? I'll be fine. Ten years'll go by before we know it." No it won't. It will be horrible and last far too long.

Silence preyed upon the room once more until the guard coughed and said, "Time's almost up."

"I…I want you to know…I'll always visit, Yomiel. Every day. So…um…don't be afraid." She started playing with her hair again. Her bow was starting to get jostled out of place. "I mean…you know what I mean, right? I don't care what happens…I love you."

"I know." I know from experience. Painfully so. "I love me too."

She giggled and said, "Stop it," before staring at him seriously. "Don't think you can hide behind wry humor. I know when you don't tell me something."

Yomiel tightened his grip on the arms of the wheelchair while trying to look quite innocent and not suspicious at all. Thank god for sunglasses.

"…I guess…you would have a good reason though, huh?" Sissel stared at him some more but got no answers.

The guard coughed again. It seemed that nobody taught him that he could just go ahead and say something without having to introduce himself with a cough. (That was a pretty horrible way to introduce yourself anyways.) "Time's up," he said halfheartedly.

"Alright then," Sissel sighed. "See you tomorrow, Yomiel."

"Seeya."

Sissel stood up with a weak grin. "Aw, stop hiding behind your cool demeanor already! C'mon, say my pet name, the one you always call me. C'moooooooon."

And for the first time that day, Yomiel found himself completely flustered. He stuttered for a few seconds before finally, glancing towards the guard and daring him to laugh, he mumbled a quick "Good-bye, Sissy Fish."

And then he went from completely flustered to incredibly mortified when Sissel chirped back much too loudly for his liking, "Buh-bye, Yomi Bear!" Dear god, he could feel the amusement of the guard boring straight at the back of his head.

"Stay out of trouble," he managed.

"No promises. In fact," she added, jumping back into view, "If I get tired of waiting, I might just break you out myself!"

And then he was being wheeled back to his cell. At least the embarrassment faded already.

As he pushed him along, the guard coughed again and said, "…She wasn't serious, was she? About breaking you out?"

"No, she was joking." Probably.

Without a doubt, the moments between her daily visits would be far too long. Already, he wished it was tomorrow. Already, he wished it was ten years later. Maybe he was being needy, or maybe he was affected by the current mindset of other him, but he was feeling incredibly…lonely.

If the only way he could spend time in between visits was to get depressed by remembering himself get depressed in a completely different timeline while trying to ignore his itchy legs, he might go insane.

He should probably get a hobby.