I've almost finished writing this one! 27 chapter long in total, and only one remains for me to finish. So, two updates a week because I can ;)

IX: The Lost Hermit

Hermit: Contemplation, Search for Truth, Inner Guidance

Reversed Hermit: Loneliness, Isolation, Lost, Recluse

He wants to disappear.

Just curls up and dissipates into nothingness and lets Death embraces him like it did everyone else.

He clenches his teeth so hard the pain stops him from thinking (he doesn't want to think), his eyes close as he trusts Aragaki to lead the way. He doesn't care where he's being led to, he just wants to get away from reality (from this nightmare), just for a moment, no matter how brief. He wants to forget all of this. He doesn't want to feel anymore.

Having feelings hurts. He just wants to revert back, to keep dissociating; something that hadn't happened in a while, now. He wants it to return and embrace him. He wants to disconnect from his own emotions absolutely, unmercifully, undeniably, but he can't. He just wants to stop.

He's given up his right to even back down as soon as he tries to save someone. He doesn't regret it, but at the same time, he wishes it wouldn't have taken away the choice to turn back.

He wishes he could've just turned back into a fool, ignorant and carefree (and alone), having to care about nothing but existing, day by day, with no goal or purpose to guide him.

An empty existence would have been fine.

"Yuuki," He's shaken out of his stupor with a gentle arm. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the bright light of the glittering sea and the view of the entirety of Port Island from the rooftop. He doesn't (couldn't) say anything as Aragaki sits him down on the bench, with the older boy himself following suit. "We can stay here for as long as you like."

"Okay," He murmurs. He doesn't want to think. He just wants it all to stop, but he knows he can't.

Aragaki still keeps an arm around him, so warm and so kind, something he doesn't deserve. All that he and his broken soul should have are emptiness and solitude. He doesn't need (doesn't have the right to need) anything else.

He keeps his eyes on the Moonlight Bridge, his arms still tugged towards his torso by his cold hands, his shoulders hunched. He couldn't disappear, not yet, not until October 4th comes. He wants to (has to) make sure that Aragaki will survive it, no matter what. It's the one life he could save, he can't afford to fail it, even if it's going to cost him his own.

"You know," Aragaki says softly as his free hand pats his head, like he always does, with care. "None of us believes the rumors, so don't let it bother you."

"You should," He whispers. "They're the truth."

"They made you believe they're the truth by drilling them into your head for a decade, not because it's true," Aragaki counters with anger that's not meant for him. He feels his breath hitches. "Ain't no way a kind soul like you is a monster, end of story."

"Kind?" He repeats with a gasp. "Kind? How could you say that when—"

"And I keep telling you that an unkind person would not have blamed themselves for deaths that were all accidental and unavoidable," The man hisses right back at his protest, killing the words in his throat.

"They—"

"Were all accidents. Stop trying to argue against me, you ain't gonna win. I ain't letting ya."

He could only remain silent.

"You told me I should forgive myself, for killing Amada's mother," Aragaki begins, voice low, as he tightens the arm around his shoulders slightly and carefully. "Do you remember the words?"

"…Castor is a manifestation of your psyche, both the chivalrous and the dark parts, but it isn't you. You tried your best to control it, but you can't. And you're atoning for your sins even though it isn't all your fault, so you're redeemable. You should forgive yourself for the things that are out of your control," He says slowly.

"Ain't it the same with you?" He says. "Can you really control the deaths of your parents? Or stopping your foster mom from going back to the house? Hell, even the kid you strangled is partly out of your control, cuz you're just trying to live. You don't even know you were strangling him until you came back to your senses."

"I…"

He can't find a sound argument.

But it feels wrong. Not blaming their deaths on him and condemning his soul into an eternity worth of punishment is wrong.

"Just think about it, no need to rush," Aragaki says with a gentle smile as he pulls Makoto closer, until his head is against the taller boy's shoulder. "We still have time. Just think on it for now. We'll talk more whenever you want to."

"Okay."

He feels Aragaki shifts slightly, but he doesn't look up, eyes focusing on a tile before him. Thinking is starting to hurt, again, so he just doesn't.

"He okay?" He hears Sanada murmurs from behind him, but doesn't feel the senior coming closer. He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes.

"Not exactly, but a bit better," Aragaki shifts again and keeps a hand on his head, gentle. "Sure as hell will be ditching classes for the rest of the day, though. How's that kid?"

"…Mitsuru took care of him," He hears shivers in the older male's voice, but dares not ask about it. The only reason would be Kirijou giving something close to what the two described as an… execution?

"Oof. Please remind me not to cross her too much, I don't want to die."

A pause. "That's new, coming from you. Thought you didn't care."

"…I actually do now, huh," The man hums, then pets the crown of his head again. "Thanks to this guy."

"I see," Sanada murmurs. Then, footsteps. "Then I'll leave you to it, Shinji. I'll be around if you need anything, gotta nip the rumors in the bud first."

"Alright. See you around, Aki."

After Sanada leaves, he finds his voice again and manages to croak out. "You want to live…?"

"Yeah," Aragaki hums. "Thanks to you."

It might be a lie, or it might not. He doesn't want to think too much about it, so he accepts it as a fact for now. He mumbles. "Thank you."

"If you're tired, you can sleep. I ain't gonna leave this spot until you wake up."

He wants to ask why — much like why Yukari refused to leave when he asked her to — but knows better than to say anything. Aragaki will get his way, no matter what. It's a losing battle, arguing with him. Makoto just exhales and nods, relaxing slightly. "If you say so."

Before he drifts off, he hears the man murmurs.

"Sweet dreams… Makoto."

The first thing he wakes up to is a dog — Koromaru, he corrects himself — licking his hand.

He blinks in confusion a few times before sitting himself up straight, ignoring the groans of his muscles as they ache. He then looks to the side to see Aragaki tapping away at his phone, and says almost off-handedly. "How're you feeling?"

"…Better," He murmurs, petting Koromaru as he barks and wags his tail, forcing out a smile from Makoto. He spends some more time scratching behind his ear and rubbing his chest before asking, "What are you doing?"

"Telling Aki you're up," He says. "School's over like an hour ago. And before you ask, no, ain't my idea to bring Koro here. It's Mitsuru."

He tilts his head. "Really?"

"Yeah, surprised me, too," The man hums before patting the dog's back lightly. "So, you wanna go back to the dorm yet?"

He frowns a little. "Not sure."

Aragaki sighs exasperatedly. "Really?"

"…I don't want to think," He murmurs, putting a hand over his face. "Thinking hurts."

Aragaki sighs before standing up. He offers Makoto a hand, and he takes it. "Then we're heading back to the Dorm. I'm gonna cook you up something light."

"You don't—"

"Nuh-uh! I ain't listening!"

Makoto just drops it. He knows better than to even think of antagonizing the older boy. He can't win in an argument. He can't win with force, either.

The man pulls him up, and he finds out that he just can't walk for shit by falling into Aragaki's chest. The older male just looks down at him with a quirked brow before he sighs, putting an arm around his shoulders in a familiar manner. "Shoulda guess you would be weak after that kinda breakdown."

He whimpers. "Sorry."

"Ain't your fault, and this ain't a bother, either," He says with finality. Koromaru barks once before walking by his side, his snout nuzzling his leg a little. Makoto cracks a small smile while Aragaki scratches his cheek, looking away. "Anyways, let's go. The sun is gonna set soon."

"Okay."

Their walk back to the dorm is uneventful, save for some curious and disdain eyes from the students. He tries to ignore it, but the voices inside him won't let him do that. It keeps whispering the words monster right into his mind, and he just wants to drown it out. He fumbles for his MP3 and pushes at the volume button until the bar's maxed out before he pushes the earphones against his ears, hard enough to leave prints on his skin.

Aragaki's hands pries his off, but instead of ripping the earphone away (like all the kids and the adults would've done), he just forces his hands a bit away. He gives Makoto a reassuring pat to the head before saying just loud enough for him to hear through the music. "You can listen to whatever, just don't press your ears that hard."

"Okay," He murmurs, absently hitting skip after skip after skip until he lands on Burn My Dread again. He presses repeat in order to keep this one song in play before letting the MP3 falls out of his hand. When he lets his arm falls to his side, he feels Koromaru jumping up to meet his fingers.

He half-heartedly pats the dog's head whenever it reaches his fingers, while keeping his pace as steady and as quick as he could. He wants to get away from people as soon as possible. Hearing them just repeating the same things he's heard for years again and again hurts. He doesn't want to perceive any of it. He doesn't want to think about it.

He just wants to stop feeling pain.

When they arrive at the dorm, the first thing the older boy does is to push him into the kitchen. He sees Amada looking at them funny, Yukari's a bit concerned, Kirijou in a foul mood and the rest of the SEES looking uneasy, at best. He looks down at the MP3 and focuses on it as he's pushed down onto a chair while Aragaki just grabs an apron, ignoring a few murmurs from some of the SEES who seem surprise, and starts piling ingredients onto the kitchen counter.

He feels the chair beside him moves, but he doesn't care enough to look. Not until a hand grabs his left and pulls at it.

Yukari is tugging on his left hand, determined, her eyes glaring into his and forcing him to look away. He just lets her take it to her lap, and flinches when she starts unstrapping his wristwatch and undoing the bandages. He wants to pull away, and when he tries to, she hisses at him and slaps his arm hard enough to leave a red mark, but not so much as to make it that painful.

He sees no point resisting, so he just stops and sighs, leaving his hand limply in her care as she starts mapping it out all over again like all those nights ago (before she slapped him) (he deserves that).

Much to his chagrin, he realizes that he misses it, the feeling of gentle fingers on his skin. He bites back his apology, the guilt, the fear. He bites back all the things he wants to say, because he has to. For her sake, he must.

After a moment, she murmurs. "You're trying to protect me from yourself."

His breath hitches.

She takes his silence not so kindly, fingers pressing deep into his skin, forcing him to wince a little. He tries to pull away again, but she doesn't let him. She keeps his hand in hers for a while before she says with a small sigh. "Really, you are such an idiot when it comes to yourself, Makoto."

He looks away. Aragaki is intentionally ignoring him by intensely looking at the cookbook riddled with post-its and small notes.

"I'm not fragile," She states, forcing his fingers open with hers before she presses her palm against his, intertwining their fingers like she always does. He tries to pull away again, but she stops him. "You don't have the right to push me away like this, you know. You're stuck with me, so deal with it."

He bites his lip. "If you know why I'm doing it, then let me go and leave."

"No," She replies immediately. "I'm not fragile. I can take care of myself. I'm not afraid of you or what the hell the rumors are saying. They're not the truth."

"But I'm afraid of losing someone dear to me," He chokes out, his voice suddenly raw. He's afraid of the shadow of Death he would often see, like a spectre trailing after him, clinging to him like a parasite and reaping all that dare come too close. "Please, just let me go and get away."

"No," She repeats herself. He refuses to look her way and shies away from her hand as they reach for his chin. She doesn't push the issue, but the grip on his hand is tighter. Much tighter. "Makoto, look at me and see for yourself that I will not let you go, no matter what."

He presses his lips into a thin line and closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head a little. "Please. I don't want you to come closer."

"You do," She says. "You want me to. You're just afraid of losing me. And I'm telling you—"

She presses her hand on his cheek and turns his head towards her.

She's smiling as she murmurs those words with such affection that it takes his breath away.

"—That I won't leave you. Ever."

In the end, Aragaki just kind of shoos him and Yukari upstairs, his cheeks a bit pink.

He wonders why.

As if by reflex, Yukari pulls him towards his bed and sits him down. Like they used to, she pulls his hand to her side and starts tracing soft little lines on it, sending shivers up his arm and setting his nerves on fire, lighting and bursting a keg of gunpowder inside his soul. He bites his lip again and tugs weakly, in a dim hope that maybe she would let go (a part of him wishes she wouldn't).

Her grip tightens, but she says nothing, leaving him to sit in silence while giving up the ownership of his left hand to her. He frowns, staying still, his mind chewing and digesting all the words he's heard so far, one at a time, methodically. It's what he knows to do best, to keep his mind busy and off the pain.

You're important to us.

You're an irreplaceable life.

You deserve love.

He shakes his head, shoving those words away, words that he wants to believe but knows he can't (he shouldn't). He opens his mouth to say something, anything, maybe to hurt her and turn her against him and push her away. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to. He knows he will fail.

"Makoto," She whispers softly. He doesn't look up and just keeps his eyes on that one black spot on the floor. She sighs. "Come on, talk to me. You know you can't turn away from me forever."

"I know," He murmurs, inhaling sharply. "…Everyone around me dies. I don't want you to end up like that, dead and forgotten."

"I told you I won't," She states, hands tight around his. He looks up at her, and she's giving him a kind smile that makes his heart jumps with joy — joy that he promptly kills off. "I promise you I won't leave."

"Your promise means nothing," He growls out like a wounded animal. He's afraid. Of both letting her closer and keeping her away. He doesn't know what he should do, and it terrifies him. "Death doesn't care about promises. It'll come for you no matter who you are."

"Makoto," She says his name softly, musically, and her voice makes his breath hitches and his throat parched. She lets go of his hand and cups both of his cheeks, keeping her eyes on his, refusing his retreat no matter what. "Death doesn't follow you. And even if it does, I'll fight it."

"I don't want you to—" His voice is lost, replaced by whimpers as the memories return to him, bits by bits. She'll die if she stays. He needs to let her go. He has to. He must. "Please, don't do this to me."

Don't give me hope.

"Makoto, you deserve love, just like everyone else," She whispers, her lips mere centimeters from his own. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, so alive and so determined. "Death doesn't cling to you, and even if it does, it won't take me. I'll make sure it won't."

Empty promises. Lies.

He swallows the words back, his last line of defense (against her tenacity) (against his own weakness) crumbling down. He can't stop it, but he has to. He tries to move away, but she's trapping him between her hands. With a broken whisper, he asks, as if to find confirmation. "…How am I going to believe that when no one else could keep it before?"

"I guess you'll have to take a leap of faith, then," She smiles, and presses her lips against his own.

It's soft and warm and sweet, tasting like lily and sunlight and spring. He closes his eyes and lets the feeling of her lips overwhelms his senses, creating sparks that run along his body and making him shivers. He reaches up to grab her waist, pulling her a bit closer, as she puts both her arms around his neck and presses herself fully against him.

He doesn't want this to end as he pushes back, light and careful. She recuperates without giving him an inch, forcing him into submission yet again with her stubbornness. Before he could really protest it, she's already pushing him down onto his own bed, and when she pulls back and away, she's trapping him with his hips between her knees and his head caged by her arms.

They are panting, catching their breaths. She's a little red, and he doubts he's fairing much better. After a moment that takes up maybe years in his eyes, she smiles and presses her forehead against his, her breath ghosting across his lips, teasing. "Are you going to leap? Or are you going to back away?"

"Leap," He replies quickly, before he could even contemplate on her words. When he does, he still stands on his answer. He no longer has the will to fight against her. And he doesn't want to. "You really are relentless, Yukari."

"I know," She whispers. "And be glad that I am, cuz I don't think anyone else is going to go this far for you."

"Except maybe Aragaki-senpai," He mumbles with a soft chuckle. "He's really weird and protective."

"I saw it, so I believe it," She hums. "You deserve all the love, Makoto, including mine. I love you."

His heart leaps and bounds with joy, and for the first time, he decides not to try to reign it in.

He murmurs back. "And I you."

They spend the next few minutes half-cuddling each other and exchanging a few playful kisses and bites.

It's decided that Yukari is the one who has control in this relationship, and he really doesn't mind it. She's caring in her own ways (it's endearing and terrifying at the same time. Kinda weird, if you ask him), and he doesn't care much about her tendency to force the issues with him. As long as she's here, he's fine with it.

The only reason they stopped was because Aragaki came knocking to ask if he's okay (and the man saw the single, obvious hickey on his neck. Must have, since he turned beet red and slammed the door back into his face right away) and dropping two boxes of dinner for them. Yukari is a bit flustered at that, and he couldn't really blame her. She's not spent as much time with Aragaki like he does.

And now they're sitting on his bed, legs touched, his hand in hers again. The scars on his wrist doesn't hurt anymore (he wonders why), and all he's feeling now is this warmth and fuzziness that calm him down. He smiles slightly, to himself, to her, as she giggles and keeps moving her fingers all over his hand, all too familiar yet still a stranger.

After a moment, she leans her head on his shoulder, and he doesn't shy away. He only curls his fingers around her hand before pulling it to his mouth and kissing her knuckle lightly. She hums, content, as he sets it back down, fingers still loosely interlaced.

"…Fuuka's going to have a field day with this," She mumbles, slightly embarrassed. He only tilts his head slightly, prompting her to continue. "She's been teasing me about… well, me being smitten over you—"

"—Which is the truth—"

Her blush deepens "—Yeah, which is the truth, and now that we've gone and kissed and stuff, I don't think I can keep it from her anymore… especially not when you left a hickey right where my choker usually is."

"That one's small, and you left one on my neck, too," He murmurs, absently rubbing where she bit him extra hard just for, by her words, shits and giggles. "So you're not in the position to talk."

"You can hide it under your collar."

"So can you, if you just button your shirt up a little," He says with a small smile. "Not that I want you to, but better than getting grilled about it, right?"

She sighs. "How unbelievably mischievous of you, Makoto."

He only hums before lying down, pulling her with him. She yelps a little, but offers no resistance as he holds her against his chest, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on the small of her exposed back. She just mumbles something under her breath before hugging his torso, her head on his shoulder.

"I promise I won't go anywhere," She whispers, holding him impossibly tighter. He detects slight tremor in her voice, maybe, but he doesn't ask about it. She inhales once. "So you better do the same, because I'll kick your ass if you don't."

He chuckles a little. "Promise."

"Good," She murmurs as she leans up to capture his lips again, slightly forceful, a bit tender. He doesn't mind it.

I swear I'll stay by you, always.

Heads up, folks. October next chapter! :D