"Aww, don't be so alarmed, dear." Her voice silken and a touch sinister, even as the tone warms V's skin; a false facade masking cold dread. "It was you whom, only moments ago, worried about 'balance,' right?"

Dripping in delicate girlish giggles that the blind man is sure are muffled by gently cupped, perfectly manicure hands, he bows his head in wordless reprieve.

The exhaustion... it must be messing with his mind.

It has to be that.

It has to.

Matted teal locks shroud his face, each of his features etched in conflicting lines as he hunches, cane an uncomfortable and awkward pressure grating at the scrapes and blisters of the palms and slender appendages that clutch at his own bent knees for balance.

"Soon the children of Magenta will be able to compete in numbers against the droves of those filthy beings. Soon, love and peace and family will over-write history, stopping the cycle of war, famine and murder in its tracks." A soft pattering echoes through the room.

Rika is coming closer.

Or, is she really?

The ever-dwelling is far too disorienting; as his ribs ache and lungs burn heavy, V could swear he can just barely make out the silvery strokes outlining the porcelain planes of polished toes fronting the leather curve of his loafers.

"You... You can't do that... Rika, not... not like this." How those words grate upon his own ears. So weak, a weathered hiss; even if they barely ghost past his own dry, chapped lips.

It isn't the words themselves nor how they were presented that makes the blind man cringe into himself when a small, warm palm idly strokes along the tangles at his crown.

No.

It's the phantoms of an inner battle. It is the way his body leans into this 'Savior's' touch when futile, he mouths weak dispute that even he has begun to doubt.

Yet, still he holds on to the sentiment.

Rika believed that this wasn't the way... She lived in paranoia and fear for months trying to escape, tired out every resource in order to grasp at it with dull claws breaking at the root until she was left with nothing but raw and bleeding stumps, falling... Falling into this. Even if Rika is the driving force behind it all, she refuted with everything she had.

So desperately.

So completely.

He knows. V knows that all of it has found its way back into her waiting grasp once again. She's found a way around the precautions that she herself placed and gotten her hands on the sensitive details of guests past; world leaders of the entirety of both small and large countries, executives of corporate dynasty that direct the flow of economy to their whims.

The very same power she had pleaded with him to hide, to protect... Rika possesses once more.

He has failed her.

Yet, in the same breath, she speaks in a breath of contented accomplishment.

Still, with emerald orbs that glistened and over-flowed, dainty hands shook as they clutched at his own in fear...

He could never just forget that.

"That person... That person will try to take all of this..." Spilling over,tears cascaded those cheeks like the most beautiful, if not tragic, falls down scarlet flushed cheeks. "Please... Help me keep this away..." Those lips, like blossoming rosebuds, trembled as she had locked him in a flickering stare; the light in her eyes seemingly fighting tooth and nail for dominance. "It needs to be dangerous to get to... It needs to be able to be eliminated without any trace left... That person... that person can't... Listen to me carefully, V... We... We need a bomb."

That memory... She didn't want this.

But, she does.

A hate-free world.

A community that gives to one another; that helps those in need, lifting the unfortunate souls with smiles and unconditional support...

Those are the ideals in which the R.F.A was founded. And in the same vein, pulsing dutifully from the same bleeding, tortured heart is Magenta... Mint Eye.

Even in her own over-whelming darkness was his love keeping hope burning bright for him.

Mint Eye... Of course she would name a sub-chapter for him and him alone.

Rika was waiting, always waiting for V to take his place beside her.

This golden-maned queen regally awaiting her king from within a castle upon a mountain, as he slouches before her, waging a war within his own mind.

He could laugh. The blinded man could allow light-hearted trills to bubble up from the depths of his chest, no longer burdened with the heft of a double-sided past. He could submit to these ideals, so like his own; taking up that empty throne to embrace his queen.

My, how tempting is her scent, her warmth; that soft glow hidden deep within her soul.

Still, that quivering, sob-filled plea; as hush as it had originally been screams throughout his mentality every bit as frightened as it was the very day it was made.

Urgent...

Pressing.

Is it phantom touches that he is feeling right now? Resounding ghosts brushing downy lips to his forehead? Are those fingertips that trail swiveling lines down his ribs like an enthusiast fondly tinkering with the abandoned keys of an underplayed grand here in the present, or just a memory of a day once spent in the light?

V could yell. Join the voice of his beloved in an attempt to reclaim reality by reaffirming a task given from a history that haunts him so.

But... He won't.

Instead, he shivers beneath the touch, letting its heat seep into weary bones that sorely missed her attentions.

"There is nothing wrong with uniting the world, V." Rika tucks an oil-slick lock behind the sagging man's ear before cupping both cheeks, tilting unseeing eyes upon her. "There is nothing wrong with choosing when one's own life has a been a fulfilling and successful one, nothing wrong with choosing to end it without pain and join the Heavenly Father in eternal Paradise within sleep."

Knowledgeable tips thumb the flesh from behind his ear to his collar in rhythmical circles; a familiar sensation that tugs on the man's heartstrings, bringing V the rest of the way down to his knees and longing for more.

And, when she pulls his tired, dizzy head to rest upon her chest, wrapping his ragged frame with her willowy arms, he can't fight the tears any longer; sinking into his love, drowning in this scent he's been searching out for so long, basking in a warmth he wasn't entirely sure he'd ever rightfully get to feel again.

"Rika..." What else can he say? V has no words, only these feelings that are slowly ripping into him, deeper and deeper still.

Intense, they intertwine and tangle all his lines, pulling in all directions. As a puppet, it leaves him in static limbo; as a man, confused and conflicted, speechless and yearning.

"Shh... Shh..." A tender few knuckles trace his jaw. "It's okay, V. It'll all be okay..." The blonde coos down at him, humming a bit in thought. "You know, like this, petting you just so, you remind me of dear, sweet Sally.

Blind, just as you are now, but would relish my embrace and make adorable little sounds like you... Even if you aren't aware of them yourself." She chuckles, hushing it into a serene silence save for the gritty little purring whines that have apparently been pouring from V's parted lips.

He doesn't protest the observation, just enjoying the lyrical melody of her words and the pacifying sensation of her touch he's been starved for, prone and bare atop the one whom owns half of his own soul.

"Though she was suffering, she stayed with me as long as she could... Until...

Until no longer could Sally stand the pain." The man knows this story front and back, has heard it countless times... But still, he listens. Keen on these dulcet tones that dance from those lips in a sad sway.

"I didn't do what I needed to save her, V... I did nothing and she chose to die, to leave me; the cause of her suffering... But, only after loving me so completely." Hand stilling for just a moment, Rika breathes deep, most likely puckering her lips to blow away a sigh as she used to do, the blonde woman continues pensively. "Are you suffering, V?"

It isn't a question the blind man can truly answer nor does he have the faculties to. Instead, He opts for the comfort of silence.

"I'm doing all I can to make this a world we can all be proud of; building a family for all, especially those without.

I'm trying so desperately to feed the hungry mouths; to abolish our kin's pain... and yet..." She sounds about as weak and vulnerable as he, on the verge of slumber coaxed on by those lulling strokes along his head, neck and achy back.

"Will you leave me, too? After all I've done, are you still going to leave me all alone?" An airy whisper, that is all the petite woman can manage as her throat closes up on her.

It's a small, crackling breeze in which V doesn't hear, as the dull cocoon of sleep wrests him away from the fragile hold, numbing all of his remaining senses.

"You promised, V." Tears spill over odd, smile-stretched cheeks, voice quiet and flat. "You promised me you wouldn't...

Remember?

You're still a liar... Aren't you?"