(Once again, for all who are confused, this is literally an early Christmas gift to myself. It's made purely to make me happy, not so much to follow canon logic. That being said, I own nothing and I hope you enjoy. God bless you all.)
If put into words, though strange, he was sure it would sound something like this; Nea made him want to be real again.
He never thought he would say that. He never thought such words would leave his lips because he had long buried the reason for those words long ago.
The guilt had killed him once. Every easy, the pain of what he had done chipped off and distorted another piece of who he truly was buried deep inside him. It would have killed, deleted, erased the identity that once dwelled in such profound innocence, purity, clarity.
It had been so long and he had nearly forgotten what it meant to be real.
The years had passed by meaninglessly and aimlessly. He walked without true purpose, numbing himself to the pain of existence as he became a mindless drown to the whims of cruelty. That distant memory was so near out of sight, out of reach, out of mind, he thought it gone forever.
That being said, imagine the look on his face when Nea, the brother that forgotten memory had lost so long ago blocked the path leading to death he had walked upon for so long.
Imagine how, under the rays of the smile and the shimmer of those familiar child-like eyes the wretched world had suffered to lose, something inside him broke.
Nea did not curse him like he should, but rather he greeted him so familiarly and fondly. Warmth filled the empty stone that was his heart, the sort of warmth he'd never felt before.
Imagine how, being embraced and called by the name he had long despised in a manner so lovingly, for a moment he thought the years of hardship and turmoil had never torn them apart.
Imagine how, in those few treasured blessed moments he thought he'd never see come, he wanted to be Mana again.
Yes, an unspeakable crime was committed in his heart that day. He knew this, but who was it that made those laws, he wondered.
Why was he bound to this pain and denial? Was it because of guilt? Was it because of all he had done?
These chains held him still and kept him from moving, from actually making the difference desired by so many.
The odd thing about this was that these chains did not truly bind him to whatever faske reality he clung to. Rather, these chains of fear and hopelessness were consistent, always their to keep him grounded in reality.
No one was holding him down. Though the power was tempting, distorting, perverting, the suit was just a suit; It was a weapon wielded in the wrong hands, nothing more, nothing less.
No one was keep Mana from being himself but Mana. He was so scared of the guilt that he his himself behind great stone walls and fell fast asleep.
The light of that existence, that familiar presence he missed so terribly much shone through those cracks, the flaws in his so perfectly thought out architecture and soon enough, it all fell apart, falling to the ground becoming nothing more than dust.
He heard his voice and he realized that Nea believed with that same confidence he had since childhood that his brother was Mana, his Mana. Even after all he had done to the other, he still believed.
It broke his heart, and yet all he ever was was mended in an instant. He felt everything and yet nothing. Without warning or premonition, Mana began to feel real.
The mask was broken and he was laid bare to judgment and yet he didn't hide. He felt bravery cording through his veins because certainly the older brother of Nea wouldn't run and hide behind shields like a coward.
What an embarrassment that would be.
He realized that it wasn't about forgiveness but with Nea here, standing in front of him, surely such a miracle as forgiveness wasn't entirely out of question.
Even so, he could never undo what he did in the past but, perhaps the beginning of truly being forgiven is not masking the same mistakes twice. Perhaps the past could just be forgiven but not forgotten because he was given a second chance to restart, to break the cycle, to change.
Was it not Nea who told him to never step walking forward? Then why was he so determined to cling to the past?
Mother always told them to believe in dreams, to have faith, to take the words of fairy tales as reality.
Perhaps he should have dropped his expectations of reality long ago because parting with the suit he had trapped himself inside for so many years was just as easy as breathing and when he let himself become Mana once more, he soon found that that first breath was the hardest thing he had ever done as tears fell down his cheeks.
It was hard and yet he pulled through because Nea wanted him to be Mana once again. If simply to make a single dream of Nea's become a reality, he would tear himself to shreds and build himself up again piece by piece. For him, he soon found he would tear down the sky for.
And not a heartbeat after, he took his brother, his friend, his other half, his dream his nightmare, his world, his everything into his arms and held like he wouldn't let go again.
He, Mana Campbell was real once again.
And so, he faced up to the punishment due for all his crimes. Sure, it was only the least someone like him deserved, but it was all he could do. Mana was thankful that Nea watched him be taken away willingly by the swarm of crows because he wanted him to know just that and maybe believe once again in the things said to be impossible.
Knowing this, it was easy.
Mana did not think Nea, the other apostles, or even Road would come to save him. Giving himself up to the cruel hands of the humans was a betrayal, a cruel abandonment of those he was supposed to lead to some kind of victory.
But to be honest, this was the right thing to do. Seeing Nea again changed, altered, fixed something inside him and he knew he couldn't, just couldn't be that leader for them again. He was not who he once was, being weak, stupid, vulnerable to pain and the elements so he let himself go.
He cut the chains, and he let himself free.
The pain, so sharp like needles of rust chipping the bottom of his skin, was heavy, nearly suffocating him in the constrictions and tightening of his throat, nearly breaking his fingers as they curled upon themselves, tearing the skin of his palms.
The innocence burnt away bits and pieces of his flesh like acid. It drove him half mad to know that all he would have to is lift a finger to stop this pain. It took more willpower he even knew he had to resist the burning itch. It took all the courage Nea gave him to endure this and somehow it was made easy.
Was this a mercy?
He might never know.
These mere humans certainly did know how to make a body of flesh react to grave amounts of pain and agony. They were masters of the art, having ancient techniques of torture and torment passed on from millions of generations.
The pain was great but it meant so little to him.
Mana almost seemed not to feel it at all, like he were but an unsympathetic spectator watching from a distance the slow murder of one stupid young man.
Yes, murder.
He was going to let them kill him. He was going to let this agonizing pain consume all that he was till all was erased.
It may have been so much less than what he deserved, but it was all he thought he could do.
Things were better this way, he thought in comfort.
Mana was aware of Nea's intentions. Nea was going to destroy him and take on the suit before destroying himself. It was the plan and the promise they had made long ago and Mana was ashamed to think that he had forgotten something so important.
It was one of the last things Nea said before he died, before he was taken far away, before Mana thought he might never see him again. It was the day life had fallen apart for them all and the true identity was buried so deep he thought it might never resurface.
It was the perfect plan, yes, but as time had passed, he began to grow further and further displeased with it.
The first of his complaints were simple: Since Nea was very small, he always had the annoying tendancy to take the world upon his shoulders. He would blame himself for even the smallest of his family's ailments, thinking it his responsiblity to fix it. Mana knew how soft hearted his brother could be, so he could not imagine how much it would hurt him, how much guilt Nea would feel if Mana were to die by his hand.
Mana couldn't do it and he couldn't let Nea do it either.
The second of his complaints was a bit more complicated: The perfect plan required Nea to die.
Mana had already lived long. He had lived many years with many chances to live well, but he failed every one of them. He deserved this punishment.
Nea, however, didn't. Nea never got the chance to make his own life with his own two hands. Simply put, Nea did not deserve to die.
Thats when Mana came to an understanding that he would die here and take the suit with him in death.
Perhaps it was noble, perhaps it was cowardly.
Perhaps it was childish, perhaps it was mature but Mana could not tell very well through haze of agony.
He could no longer see with his eyes.
He could no longer feel with his fingers.
He could no longer hear with his ears.
Mana did not hear the door of the cell open. Mana did not feel himself being lifted from the ground. Mana did not see the familiar face look at him with terror, asking, begging, pleading for him to open his eyes.
But the warmth rekindled in his heart was reconized and welcomed and he gave a weak smile to who he knew held him in these few moments of relief.
"Nea...?" He whispered far far too softly, far too hopefully, far too weakely, "You... You're... Here...?"
"You absolute idiot!" The warm presence seemed to say, pulsating with every sharp sylliblem, "A simple sorry would have safficed!"
"I... I'm...so... sor-"
"No, don't talk! You're hurt."
"Thank you... Thank you for being alive... Thank you..."
He was never good with words. Mana could simplify statements, but these words in his heart he didn't even know where to begin to express. Those three words, no matter how lost he became, had always encompassed his being. He was always afraid to say it, thinking he would be denied even these feelings but here, in this moment at his brothers side, they seemed to slip right off his tongue.
Mana wouldn't hide anymore. This time, he would be real.
"I... I love... you..."
And with that final breath, the lost boy fell into a deep sleep and saw no more.
He wasn't scare. He wasn't in pain. He wasn't alone.
Not anymore.
