A/N: The way this show ended was pretty much a disaster, especially since Fena losing her memories completely changed her relationship with Yukimaru. So here you go. I fixed it.
Yukimaru opens his eyes, and it's blindingly bright. He blinks, lets his eyes adjust, and slowly he becomes aware of his body again. Cool water laps at his ankles; a quiet breeze flutters at the loose hairs on his brow; the heat of a glaring sun beats down on his shoulders. The sea begins to separate itself from the sky in his vision, the horizon flat and blurred. He looks down at his feet, and there's white sand between his toes underneath the glistening blue water. He watches the gently rippling water as it washes over his feet and past him, and he turns to follow it with his eyes as it continues on up the gentle slope of the white sand, only to lose its momentum and slip back down.
"Fena." His lips form her name almost before his mind can recall why she matters so much to him. His eyes narrow as they flick up to scan the horizon, searching for her slight frame, her platinum hair.
"I'm here." Her voice is soft, gentle, the words barely distinguishable from the rush of the waves against the sandbar.
He turns, and there she is, where before there had only been blue waves and empty sky. The water laps at her calves, the bottom of her white dress billowing around her legs and gently swaying with the movement of the water. She's watching him steadily, her expression unreadable, and though they are within arm's reach of one another, she does not reach out.
"Fena," he says again, taking a step towards her, water splashing up onto his pants. "Do you know who I am?"
She blinks once, her grey eyes dark despite the dazzling brightness around them. Then, slowly, she dips her head in a nod. "Yes."
His eyes widen slightly, a sharp breath hissing over his teeth. "How is that possible?"
Her gaze shifts past him, her brows drawing together slightly and her eyes losing focus. He can see her lips twitching slightly in the way they do when she's thinking, and he waits, the breeze sighing between them. At last, her eyes flick back up to his face, and a chord of uncertainty strikes in his chest at the depth, the age in them. She looks like her mother, beauty made strange and ethereal by some heavy burden.
"I refused their choices."
"What?"
She regards him with unnerving stillness. "I refused to make the choice they tried to force me into."
He steps past her, the water creeping up to his knees, and squints into the blurred horizon. "What happened, then? What's changed?"
She follows, her dress swirling around her thighs as she comes deeper into the water. She stops at his side, barely a breath of air between her shoulder and his arm. "I'm not sure," she replies, her gaze sweeping across the waves. "But look." She extends her arm across his chest to point past him, and he follows her finger over to a small black speck cresting the horizon.
"The sub," he murmurs.
She nods, and they stand watching it bob its way towards them, its indistinct shape slowly becoming clearer. He feels cold fingers against his palm, and he looks down, heart leaping into his throat, to see Fena lacing her fingers with his. She gives him a gentle squeeze, and his eyes flick up to her face. She's looking back at him, a small smile touching her lips, her eyes soft.
"Thank you for being with me, Yukimaru."
His breath catches in his throat, the promise of tears aching in the center of his chest, and he tightens his fingers around Fena's. He wants to say I would follow you anywhere, wants to say I never want to be away from you again, wants to say I can't imagine myself without you, but all that comes out is, "Of course."
She seems to understand, though, her smile growing warmer, the corners of her eyes crinkling as it reaches them. And then she leans up, her free hand coming to rest lightly against his stomach, rising up on her tiptoes, and her eyes flutter closed, long lashes brushing against her cheeks. Yukimaru watches her, breath stilled between his lips, holding motionless, spellbound. Her lips brush against his, the barest whisper of contact, and then her eyes blink open. Her gaze is gentle, and knowing, and beautiful in a way he can't think to describe, in a way he doesn't understand.
But Fena has always had something in her beyond his ability to understand.
She sinks back down until her feet are flat in the sand once more, and her hand curls around his waist as she lays her head on his chest. His lips twitch with a smile as he looks down at the top of her head, loose strands of her hair fluttering in the breeze, and he places his free hand over hers, then releases their linked fingers to put his arm around her shoulders. She shifts closer, curling into his side until their bodies are pressed against each other, her eyes still trained on the far away submarine.
Some unnamable, unknowable feeling welling up in his chest, he presses a kiss to the crown of her head, then lifts his head to look out over the waves with her.