Next chapter on the 1st of November.
They stand outside in the light of the sun, fierce as it breaks through the clouds threatening rain.
A stream of people stare at it as they move into the building, refugees.
Fai supposes that that's the only people left in this world, those determined to do anything just for the chance at a better life.
They're braver people than him. He's sure of that.
Still, he's moving too. They'll be leaving soon too.
His gaze turns back from these people he'll never know to the ones who he knows too well.
While everyone else walks in the sunshine their group is clustered near the shattered and eroded remains of an old building, half shadowed by the precariously balanced shards of rock.
Mokona perches anxiously on the princess' shoulder.
There is silence.
It is brittle. No one wants to snap it.
"Thank you!" Mokona says, voice high, "For treating everyone's wounds." Their voice trails off, thin.
This world has hurt even them.
The healer frowns, apologetic.
"I'm sorry that we don't have the kind of medicine needed to truly heal you, especially that leg." Their voice is strong despite the regret.
Sakura shakes her head, meeting the eyes of each person outside of their group.
Fai would wonder what had happened to her to make her so strong, so steadfast, if he didn't already, unjustly know far too much about it.
He wishes that he'd had the decency to have left them all so long ago. In the end he's just a coward.
"You deserve all of our thanks." She says, calmly, measuredly, like the queen she could have one day been.
He wishes that he had half of her strength.
"And you too! Kamui-san, Subaru-san, Fuma-san too!" Mokona chirps, jumping between the three. Subaru catches them, smiling.
Fuma looks to Fai with something which Fai can only see as pity.
Fai just feels sick. He lets his claws extend just a little, just enough that he can feel it. It's enough to drown out their words.
Fuma extends a hand to the princess, a feather captured within glass confines shining brightly in his palm.
"I made a promise to someone else but my brother has a feather like this, doesn't he?" The man asks, frowning a little at the thought.
"You have some pretty heavy needs though. I hope that this can help you out so don't worry about it, okay?" He asks, holding it securely now, just above the princess' hands.
She thanks him.
The words sound hollow.
"Are you sure that you want to do this?" He asks her as her bandaged hands reach for the glass.
She falters for a moment, eyes stuck on the memories between them. Her eyes drift upwards, catch his.
Even from where he stands, away from everyone, Fai can see the exhaustion yet determination in her eyes.
She reminds him of Syaoran.
His eye stings, a phantom pain.
"Yes." The princess says.
The glass cage falls gently into her broken hands.
She holds it tight to her chest and begins to walk, following the diminishing trail of people.