I can't see, I can't see worth shit. I try to open my eyes but they refuse to work. I could have sworn I was in complete control of my life – I was complete and willing and breathing – but here I lie, the darkness gnawing slowly at my every being.

But there's a warmth. I thought that, I don't know. Maybe I convinced myself that I was strong enough. Powerful enough. All of that shit to… I don't know, live forever? But I can't feel my limbs and I can't find my strength.

Maybe though, maybe.

Maybe this warmth against me, the warmth that I am curled up unto. Maybe that is the source of my strength. But I can't open my eyes to see it.

Maybe I don't need to see it to know it's there though. Isn't that… isn't that how life works? There are so many things we visibly cannot see, and yet they exist.

Terror.

Knowledge.

Envy.

Rage.

Heartbreak.

Resolve.

Yeah, they'll all real, that's for sure.

And he is real, right here, right now.

"Archer."

Did I even say it? I tried to, but I don't remember my lips moving. I'm suddenly aware of how cold it is, way up here, wherever I am.

"Don't speak." I can imagine him muttering with grit on his tight lips. I can imagine him, eyes silently closed. His fingers dig into my side. "Don't speak. We're almost there."

Did I ask where? Did I finally actually speak?

His grip tightens on me; it feels like we've landed somewhere, only for him to spring up again into the heavens. Maybe he will take me with him this time, to this place between space and existence. Where the heroes lie in wait, where he lives for all of eternity, waiting for hands to catch him on his final descent.

Am I his final descent? That landing felt awful shaky. But we rise again, and the wind whips my hair. It dawns on me how oddly… empty my body feels; the soul inside of me fell into a slumber, if it even exists anymore. That sensation of belonging to another person, to another place and point in time, yet being… I don't know, full? Able-bodied? For the first time ever, like I could take the world in hand and run away? I can't help but feel lonely.

I must look like a hot mess.

"Shhhhhh Kazumi, we're almost there."

I smile – I am sure of it. I can't remember him ever calling me by my name. It is this, this is the source of my strength.

I try to roll my weight so I am held by him more. I can't open my eyes, or maybe I can and all I can see is the darkness. I see no light. Maybe it is blood that I see with my unseeing eyes. Maybe it is my blood.

"You're not dead, and you're not dying. Not tonight."

He sounds so certain. Didn't I actually die today though? Like, twice? At least one and a half times?

It's now that I realize the weight behind his

words.

Wherever I am going, he is not following.

My throat is dry, yet it bleeds; I can feel that awful liquid bubbling from within me. But I muster what I can and choke on my words. My sobs, really, at this point; I can't hold back tears, not right now. Each tear falls slowly, cupping my cheek and holding me still as I refuse to let go.

"Please don't leave me."

It must be just in time as well, as his grip on me loosens. For some reason, the earth is beneath me, not heaven, not hell. Cool grass embraces me and my bloodied back as I fall loosely into it. Gently he lowers me into my grave, back into my miserable existence.

"Ar-cher, p…please."

"You are a lot stronger than you think, Kazumi. You are a greater influence to your world then you may ever realize. You remind me of someone from a long time ago… You remind me of myself too, now that I think about it." There it is again – that 'almost' emotion. But it's budding now, its blooming and blossoming. With every word, more emotion fills him. And for the life of me, I can't take it. I can't take the weight behind his unspoken words. I can't take that silent quiver that consumes his chin.

But the sound of sirens slowly rise around me, a swirling cloud of what is and what is not. It is a hum that rises in a serenade of day-to-day heroes. I can practically see the colors as they consume me and the little life I live.

"Please."

Someone shouts off to my right, and I know I'm running out of time. But something touches my forehead, a caring, scarred hand. It brushes away my hair and gently dabs at my wet cheek.

"Insolent girl. I will never leave you."

And with that, the guardian leaves. A spin of his head as he leaps away reveals the facility nurses had, indeed, found her. When he stumbles back to the earth and its waiting eternity, he crashes, his leg no longer useful. His arm is nearly torn off too, and yet he tries to rise.

For that is all he has ever known, rising when the darkness crashes down. She is safe, and that is a blessing. She will live. And he now has no reason to come to his full height. As he settles on his knees, the guardian picks his chin up to the heavens, waiting for the return to his final resting place. He was the last to survive from this ordeal, the last to die. The last to suffer and to watch the suffering, and as he always and forever will be, he will remain to always be that last one to walk the Earth.

And for the first time since the stars first emerged in his life, he feels peace: from one little girl he learned the power of knowledge and self-worth, the strength to look unfavorable odds in the face and refuse to look away. From this one he learned resilience in its most primitive form – that of a life dying to live. That of a short, inexperienced life burdened by horror. Her eyes of speckled indigo, a thirsting light looking for the ever-approaching opportunity to set fire to this rain called war. Eyes just beyond a hand raking through mud, a body seemingly at its end yet forcing itself to keep moving forward.

That, he reasons, as the stars take his body away, as his last breathe leaves him, that is what he fights for.

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This was written after my break up. It's funny how experiencing these emotions can help you write them.

But wait, there's more! Stick around one more week ya'll!