"… 'Tsunayoshi Sawada and Kyouya Hibari- sons of Alaudi Hibari and Ieyasu Sawada.'"
The book was clapped shut, and the man holding it looked behind him with a smile. "The water's very cool, you know. Aren't you coming in?"
Both of the adults kneeling on the sand shook their heads. The messy white-haired leader merely shrugged, looking up at the sky with the notebook still in his hands. "It's a shame, really," he sighed. "They were such hard workers."
He was nearly waist-deep in the water, but he slowly pulled out. Once his wet feet hit the dry sand, however, he turned and threw the book with all his strength into the lake. It was visible for a bit, floating, before the water seeped in and it spiraled slowly down into the bottomless depths to follow its owners. "Too hard-working to give up what they'd kept for seven years, I suppose."
The two others turned to each other. "Shall we torch the remains?" the taller of the two asked. The shorter subordinate remained kneeling, face blank.
"No no, there's no need for that," the white-haired man laughed. "It's hard enough to get here, anyway. Just keep note of the location and erase any evidence of chase."
Those two had planned to die from the start. One had always run slowly so as to not lose his pursuers. The other met him at the lake, and they had only backed slowly into the water until they were treading. They remained there, resisting all attempts at rescue, until they drowned, too exhausted to continue floating. It was a demonstration piece.
"Understood, Byakuran, sir," the taller subordinate responded as the shorter stood up. They turned away, dashing off the ways they had come.
The white-haired man looked up at the sunny sky again, fingers moving as though brushing the spine of a worn notebook. "It's okay," he murmured, no longer smiling as he watched the clouds roll by. "It's okay. If they wanted to experience hardship so badly, they didn't deserve a place in Utopia. It's okay."