CXI.
"I love you."
Warm, expressive, golden eyes. Silken hair so very soft to the barest touch, feeling almost as if it were spun from threads of sunlight. Fair skin, coupled by a rosy glow.
"I love you, Yuuto."
Beautiful, radiant smile. Bright laughter. Teasing grins.
"I… love you, Yuuto…"
Blood.
Warm eyes growing cold, bright laughter fading away to nothingness. The luster disappearing from her hair. Dimming smile, ashen skin.
Blood.
There was so much blood.
There was so much blood.
There was so much blood, and he couldn't–!
Blood trailed from the edge of her mouth as she slumped in his arms, impossible still, limp fingers loosely intertwined with his own before dropping entirely from his grasp. And he could only sit and stare as the last dredges of life disappeared from her body. As her blood pooled over the marble steps and cooled and–
These injuries on her body –he recognized them; who else's handiwork would it be? Who else could it be? Who else would dare?
(How could she do this to her, to the love of his life?)
…
The world around them continued to burn in the hellish depths of those hungry, twisting flames.
Indigo flames.
CXII.
The scowl on the silver-haired swordsman's face deepened upon catching sight of that face. Gods, how he wanted to jump down there and carve that fucking little piece of shit into a million little pieces…
(It didn't even matter which one he was anymore, Aconito or Yuuto; as long as that thing was dead.)
"What the hell is going on?!"
Shock. The brats were in shock –and here Squalo felt his lip curl. Honestly, had there ever been any point to keeping them ignorant of Yuuto's defection? If they had known of it beforehand, perhaps they wouldn't be as affected by it later on, when they inevitably saw that Yuuto stood across from them on the battleground.
Much like the young Decimo's precarious situation right now. His movements had been shot to hell ever since Torikabuto revealed his true identity, barely managing to keep ahead of the downright vicious attacks being launched at him –on one hand, the fluffy-haire brat probably still regarded Torikabuto as the Mist Funeral Wreath and a legitimate danger, but on the other hand, he couldn't take his eyes off of Yuuto's face. Yuuto, who he somehow still saw as a fucking friend.
Tch.
These brats were all too soft–
"Stop this, Yuuto!"
Butterflies.
Pale white butterflies, tinged with indigo, fluttering down and converging upon the duo from every direction. Thousands of butterflies coalescing into a vaguely humanoid shape, and–
Squalo choked on thin air.
"Setsu?" Dino wasn't much subtler than he was, the blond Cavallone's jaw dropping wide open. "What the hell –wait, isn't she supposed to be in the base with Shouichi? How in the world did she just–"
"It doesn't fucking matter!" Squalo roared, slamming his hand down on the table and turning to leave. Panic –how long had it been since he had last felt anything close to this emotion beating in his chest? Not since his sister had– "Voi, I'm going down there and–"
"You extremely can't!" The Vongola brat's Sun Guardian scowled, grabbing him by the arm, and Squalo scowled right back at the kid.
"Ryohei is right," Dino placed a hand on his shoulder, and the silver-haired swordsman shook him off. Both of them off. "Squalo! Calm down! If any of us go down and interfere with their battle, it will count as an automatic forfeit for Vongola! We can't afford for that to happen!"
"Does it look like I fucking care?"
He couldn't let Stella fight Torikabuto again. He couldn't.
CXIII.
How strange.
She recognized him –Yuuto was her blood brother, how could she not recognize him? How could she not recognize him, even so twisted and distorted like this?
But it's strange, how –standing across from him, using the butterflies that Mukuro had given to her as her box weapon, letting those butterflies dance around her in a veritable snowstorm as she peered at that man in front of her–it was… hard, almost, to look into those cracked, darkened eyes, and see him for the boy that he was, the man that he had become.
How strange.
Standing across her brother and staring at him… except, somehow… it felt as if she was staring at a stranger instead, no matter the familiar face and familiar flames.
(Those eyes were so foreign to her.)
…
No.
No, not a stranger.
Aconito.
Aconito, wasn't it?
"You." The familiar-not familiar man's lip curled, eyes dancing with a devilish glow as gray eyes deepened to indigo –no. No. No. No, this wasn't Yuuto, this couldn't be, this was… Aconito, wasn't it? "So you have come to this world, too? Pity. You should've stayed dead."
No, Yuuto wouldn't speak to her this way…?
"You should be dead, too." She is frozen in shock by the words that come out of her mouth, by the way she slowly holds out her arms, commanding the butterflies swirl to a stop. Because these are not her actions, and these are not her words as her mouth continues to move and speak on its own. "I remember. I killed you with my own two hands, Aconito. You were nothing but a shapeless lump of flesh by the time I was through with you. Or… don't tell me, Byakuran was able to somehow save you before he tore my heart out?"
The man-wearing-Yuuto's-face cocked an eyebrow at her.
"I am not Aconito. But it is indeed true that he survived that battle by Byakuran-sama's grace. He didn't die that day. You, on the other hand, are undeniably dead, Stella."
Something in her twisted and broke loose at hearing that name fall from his lips, as if that was all the push that Stella needed to come forth. To be called by name. To be called by anyone –wasn't that how she had built Marion, when others had called and she had heard their voices–
Like a dam spilling forth, starlit waves crashing over her mind and–
Darkness.
…
…
…
… Hm? Who did you say was undeniably dead, child?
CXIV.
Tsuna gaped as Setsu was engulfed in a torrent of Mist flames –not unlike what Mukuro and Chrome had done so many countless times before, except… except there was something wrong about this, except–
"At last, you have come." Yuuto's voice was low and mocking as he regarded the… silver-haired girl. Silver hair, bone-white pale, sickly appearance–
Eyes hazel and ringed with Mist flames as she stood, an apparition of the Mist itself.
This is wrong.
Who is she?
What happened to Setsu?
Of course I have come. You called for me, did you not, Aconito?
"I'm not Aconito!" Yuuto snapped at the girl, who wore a regal look of amusement over her face as the butterflies around her slowly disappeared. She closed the pale indigo box and snapped her fingers, letting it vanish.
Liar.
"No. I'm not a liar. Not like you." There was something strangely accusing in Yuuto's hate-filled glare towards the silver-haired girl, "Aconito is dead. I took this mask from him. He is dead."
Silly boy.
The girl shook her head, a cruel smile dancing over pale lips.
Aconito is using you. He only needs that mask to survive –or maybe not even that mask, not anymore. Who knows if he still needs a focus for performing possessions?
"No one is using me!"
Tsuna felt a shiver of apprehension trail down his spine when the girl simply smirked.
Really, now? Just who are you trying to convince here? Me… or you?
At those words, Yuuto's body instantly burst into a thousand sea snakes that lunged at the silver-haired girl in Setsu's place, and Tsuna was about to use the mantle again to protect them when–
The girl pulled out Setsu's Vongola Box and lit up the Mist Ring glittering on her finger.
Fool.
CXV.
"Ne, ne, Byakuran, who's that? Where did the other girl go?"
The white-haired teen grinned at the little blue-haired girl curled against his side.
"Stella Squalo. She's an old acquaintance who hitched a ride in Setsuko's mind. Her appearance makes the battle more interesting, no? I wonder how Yuuto-kun will fare against her."
"Eh? Stella Squalo? Isn't that–"
"–The girl who killed Yuuto's wife, before he solicited Aconito's help and took revenge? That's ab-so-lute-ly right, Bluebell."
CXVI.
"What?!"
Dino grimaced. He had hoped that there would be a gentler way to break the news to the kids, but…
"Stella is… old-school mafia." He sighed, "When she found out that Yuuto's wife had… possible connections to Byakuran's spy network, she… may have been a little hasty in judgment, in deciding to kill her, but she was perfectly within her rights to–"
"Let me get this straight. She killed someone for something she thought they might have done with no actual proof?"
Well, when they put it that way…
"And if the woman really turned out to be a spy selling Vongola's secrets?" Squalo scowled at the group of brats. "Any lapse in judgment would've allowed her to escape."
"But why kill?"
Squalo valiantly resisted the urge to slam the brat's head into the table.
"This is the fucking mafia, brat. If you're not ready to kill and die, then get out of here."
CXVII.
There is no boat in the lake, not anymore. Restless waters swirl into crashing tidal waves, growing higher and higher and higher still, and it takes all she has to summon a simple piece of driftwood and stay afloat in the raging tempest.
"Stella!" She shouts into the storm, "Stella, stop this! I have to–"
There is nothing you have to do.
You are not ready to fight Yuuto. If you face him as you are, you will die.
I'm doing you a favor here –live on in my memories, child.
Another tidal wave drags her under, but she sends out a tendril of Mist flames to part the waters before her before she is dragged to the bottom of the lake.
And she hears Stella's voice again.
There is nothing you can do.
You are weak.
You are weak because you lack ambition.
Purpose.
Resolve.
Her legs shake under the force of the waters bearing down on her, but she refuses to retreat. Even though this is Stella –monster from birth and the woman who single-handedly created Marion and upheld the Squalo House, who slaughtered any who dared oppose her and annihilated the Estraneo Famiglia that wronged her–
She can't.
She can't retreat.
She can't back down.
She won't.
Yuuto. She has to help Yuuto. Sousei. Sousei is still waiting for her. Tsuna. Tsuna is relying on her for the Choice battle. All of them are relying on her. And Superbi. And Mukuro. And–
You are weak because you cling to useless attachments.
Stella's voice is a soft, quiet whisper that rings with truth and nothing but the absolute truth.
You are weak because you cling to compassion.
Empathy.
Kindness.
Such naivety, child…
"It's not naivety." She coughs, spitting water from her throat. Defiantly, she looks up and stares straight into the Mist-filled sky. "It's not. It's called being human. Having a heart."
Humans are weak.
What does the cruelty of the world care for the matters of the heart?
Can you stop Byakuran by telling him of human kindness?
"You're wrong." Her voice comes out steady. Steadier than it ever has in a long, long time. "If you truly think that, Stella, then you are just as bad as Byakuran."
You presume to lecture me?
Quiet.
Dangerous.
The waters hovering around her suddenly crash down, swirling and spinning into a vortex. A whirlpool, sucking everything into bottomless darkness.
You believe that you are strong?
Do not make me laugh.
Where do you think your strength comes from?
Her Mist flames light up the darkness, but it is only a tiny spark against the endless sky stretching above her that burns with Stella's will.
Make no mistake, child.
This strength you have is mine.
You live on borrowed strength.
You do not draw strength from yourself, but me and from others around you.
How in the world can you even think to protect them from harm if you are so very, very weak?
The relentless waters draw her closer to the brink of oblivion.
Without me, you are nothing.
A note of finality in Stella's voice.
Goodbye, child.
The waters close above her.
This life is mine to live.
…
…
…
… And she sees it.
In the maelstrom of darkness. Of crashing waves. Of endless night.
She sees it.
A single spot of brightness.
A butterfly.
And then they come –a torrent, a blizzard, a snowstorm; thousands of butterflies flying on the wings of fragmented memories. Of eating cake and playing games and running along with Reborn's schemes, of laughing with friends and watching fireworks and–
What is this?
What are you doing?
Why?
–crashing against Stella's waves. Stella's waves consist of nothing but blood and pain and suffering and endless screams, and of the single intense desire to protect those precious few she held dear to her heart–
Will.
This is a battle of wills.
The desire to live.
Dying will.
…
Stella is harsh and jagged at her edges, born and bred in blood and suffering, forged in the flames of hatred only to rise above the vengeance of enemies seeking to destroy her and hers. Setsu is not. Setsu is softer, a girl who is essentially civilian, prior to reawakening these horrific memories of hers. But it's not all horrific; Stella isn't all blood and suffering and the will to kill. She knows that.
She knows that, because she is Stella.
She… is Stella.
(They're Stella, both of them are. One fake and one real. One real, always worried about being fake. One fake, secretly wishing to become real. But it's undoubtedly true that both of them are Stella.
And both of them wish to live.)
… They're really not so different in the end, are they? Setsu is considered to be weak whereas Stella is seen as strong, but what is the true difference between them, that defines them and separates them as separate entities? There… there is no difference, not truly. Not quite. Because Setsu is Stella and Stella is Setsu; they might stand across from each other on opposing sides of the starry storm-waters as enemies, but just as Setsu holds memories of everything that Stella has done, so does Stella know all of Setsu's thoughts and feelings regarding her every experience.
Setsu loves Superbi. Loves Alfredo. Loves Faust. She still isn't quite sure what she feels for Xanxus, but she knows that Stella had certainly cared for the man. Knows that she herself cares for him as well, no matter how ambiguous the exact details of that emotion might be.
… Setsu looks up at the Stella of the starry lake-storm in front of her, the Stella that wishes to kill her to live once more, and realizes something in a soft glimmer of comprehension, of understanding. It's not all clear to her yet, but she thinks…
She thinks that she has an inkling of why 'Stella' has chosen to vie for control like this.
And she cannot allow that.
She cannot allow herself to fade.
(Fake and real, real and fake. But the truth is the truth; what is fake will always be fake, and what is real will always be real.
Setsu is not fake; Setsu is real.
And she is Stella as Stella truly exists, both in life and in death.)
…
…
…
The millions upon millions of butterflies beat their wings in tandem, driving back the relentless storm, slowly but surely–
You… why are you doing this? How?
Why?
Do you know what this means?
If you think to confront me so that only one of us will be left–
Don't you know what you stand to lose?
"Yes."
Setsu knows. She knows that she stands to lose everything if she does not act, if she does not assert control over her mind again. Because this is her mind, and in this mind, no matter what threats are pitted against it, whether it be from foreign enemies like Mukuro or from the devils created from the depths of her own mind.
In this mind, in this world, no matter how weak or useless she is –Setsu is god.
… I see.
Very well.
So be it, then.
…
…
…
"Yuuto is right –your time is over. Goodbye, fake."
The butterflies surge forward in one last, massive push, and the world turns blindingly white under the thunderous flutter of their gossamer wings.
…
…
…
And the lake finally calms and grows still.
CXVIII.
Stella smiled.
It wasn't a cold, cruel smile; nor was it a soft, gentle one. It was a rather curious sort of smile –as if she had learned some amusing little secret that no one else knew of, that no one else would ever know of– and then she raised the Vongola Mist Box in her hand, recalling the Mist owl that had flown out.
Yuuto landed on the ground opposite to her, watching the silver-haired monster with a wary look in his eyes. It had taken a joint effort between himself and Aconito to bring her down the first time around, and even then it had been a close call, only Setsu's momentary emergence that had broken the monster's concentration and–
Focus.
Focus on the monster.
What was the monster playing at with that smile?
He opens his mouth.
"What are you–"
Farewell.
… The word hadn't been intended for him.
Then who–?
He cursed as the monster abruptly vanished in a blaze of Mist flames, and–
CXIX.
"Attention. Attention, all participants of Choice. We are now currently verifying the status of the Targets who have been downed simultaneously. Please remain on standby until we of the Cervello can reach a conclusion regarding the outcome of this match."
CXX.
The target on Daisy's chest blazed to life again, while Shouichi's remained dull and blank.
…
"We have confirmed the status of the Targets," the pink-haired woman stood up from where she was crouched by the motionless redhead's side. "Irie Shouichi's target marker has been fully extinguished, while Daisy's has not. Thus, we declare–"
"Are you so sure of that, Cervello?"
The woman took a startled step backwards as Shouichi's bloodied corpse suddenly dissolved into indigo-tinged butterflies, which fluttered away and disappeared into thin air right before their eyes.
"What–"
"I left a butterfly with Shouichi when I ran after Yuuto, just in case something like this happened." Setsu stepped into view, right hand grasping onto the stumbling redhead's left, who was dragged out into the limelight with her. Both of them looked beaten and battered and more than a little worse for the wear –but the target marker on Shouichi's chest still burned brightly with Sun flames. "Kikyo only hit an illusion I set up beforehand. Shouichi is fine."
She hooked her fingers into the wireless mouthpiece on the side of her face and lifted it closer to her lips.
"Hear that, Tsuna, Yamamoto? Shouichi is fine." She stressed the last few words, taking advantage of the moment of shock that held everything still. "Gokudera and I can take care of things here. You guys just focus on taking down the Millefiore target, alright?"
A deathly silence.
And then:
Somehow, Kikyo remained remarkably composed when he spoke again.
"My mistake, then. I was hasty." He stepped over smoothly, and the only reason she stood her ground was because it felt as if her legs would give out under her if she took another step anywhere. "I suppose I should've expected something like this with you on the field, Stella Squalo."
She shakes her head.
"Setsu, not Stella." Shouichi gives her a startled look at this, but she doesn't turn to look at him. Not at this moment, when they can no longer afford any more slip-ups, when they have reached the crux of the match. The well of power inside her, the Mist that had always accompanied her –a portion of it was just gone, the portion that had been purely Stella and not Setsu and now Stella was– "I will not allow you to win. Byakuran must not complete the Tri-ni-sette. Ever."
The Millefiore Cloud's face twists into an ugly expression at that light proclamation, and–
Everything suddenly burst into motion again.
.
…
.
.
Edit 08/08/16: Fixed up a few sections in the story to match with a change in plot, especially in light of chapter 15. PLEASE DISREGARD EVERYTHING in the original AN below.
I repeat:
PLEASE DISREGARD EVERYTHING in the original AN below.
.
Author's Notes:
Finally done with the main part of the whole Stella/Setsu mixup thing. Kinda glad that's over with now, haha. :3 Make no mistake, I'm fond of Stella, too, but in this story that focuses on Setsu –it's kind of inevitable that Stella would get viewed as an antagonist. From her perspective, she wants to get out so she can continue protecting the people precious to her, and Setsu is only an obstacle in her way. And we all know that Stella has no problems with being cruel and ruthless in order to get things done. In comparison, her initial decision to just lock Setsu away is fairly tame. It's only Setsu's refusal to roll over and let her take over, instead fighting back, that instigates the battle between them.
Choice will officially end next chapter, and… anyone feeling excited to be seeing Yuni soon? Epic Boss of the Arcobaleno and all that jazz?
(Actually, I blame Truth of the Sky by LeoInuyuka for that last sentence. xD No, I assure you that the Yuni in Canopus won't be as… eccentric. In case you're worried about that lol.)
We're almost through with the Future arc. 1-2 more chapter(s), I think. And then comes the Shimon Arc… that Setsu might be skipping out on a little. Kinda. Maybe. xD Shimon Arc will probably be shorter than the Future arc, and then we have the Rainbow Curse Arc… dunno how long I want that to be. I might stick in another extra or omake soon, but don't take my word for it. :D
QUESTION: What are your thoughts on Yuuto so far?
10/04/14 Story stats rundown:
Posted Diamond Dust earlier today. It's the whole one-shot/drabble collection thing with OCxCC pairings (kind of) where I'm taking requests/prompts from readers. First story is ShamalOC.
Drown should be continued, too. :3 Dunno when I'll get around to typing the next chapter, but I have a general idea of where I want to go with it. Most likely, Drown will end up 4-5 chapters long in total. I think.
Onwards Till Dawn… is… a little slow going. Still emailing drafts back and forth with XxZuiyun, and that's on top of our schoolwork. = = We typed up half the chapter, only to then decide that we want to move a certain event so that it happens much later in the story, and… yeah, re-working a lot of our original plans for the Future Arc right now. Hopefully we'll sort it out and finish the next chapter soon, yeah?
Also. Kind of. Just a little curious about it and going off on a completely unrelated tangent here. For you other fanfic writers out there, do you usually listen to music when you write? If so, what kind? :3
(I listen to random bgm on youtube, like, 60% of the time while I write fanfics. xD For anyone who might happen to be interested in that random tidbit, of course.)
Till next time, everyone!
XxZuiliu