[Maybe that’s what frustrates her. It’d be easier than ever to hate him now. Hate points a sharp object at someone’s throat and tells them to die—that’s easy.
[Truth is not easy.]
I’m so angry at him. I didn’t want to face him. But I can’t…
[They left her again, at the lake. Aubrey’s tired of old mistakes.]
[She nearly drops to her knees when the world fades to white, grabbing at her own arms to hold the wound shut. It’s some dumb stroke of luck she doesn’t fall on his blade—or so Aubrey thinks, before she realizes Omori lowered the knife himself.
[Leftover adrenaline leaves her shivering, head bowed. God, if she’s ever restrained like that again…]
S-“sorry”… [The sputtering echo is more baffled than anything.] After all that....
[Her shoulders slump when the knife disappears. She’s starting to think she could kill to never see a sharp object pointed at anyone ever again.]
[Some part of her waits—more retribution, more interrogation. The other shoe has to drop.
[But it doesn’t. Aubrey looks up and Omori’s just… sitting there.]
[He looks so, so much like Sunny. Despite herself, Aubrey’s expression softens.]
[There’s just a bit more quiet, as the slashes scab over. It’s not pretty. Will it be more or less disturbing if they’re still there, when she wakes up? The very thought of this being a dream, nightmare, whatever it might be—feels silly in and of itself.]
[She almost got killed to protect Sunny’s fragile, fabricated peace.]
[Aubrey should be mad about that, maybe. He looks like Sunny. He has the piano’s name and the boy’s knife. And he wants to keep Sunny safe… from them.]
[There’s a lot she still doesn’t understand, and hell forbid Kel or Hero wind up here… But for once, Aubrey can try not to make it worse.]
I can’t speak for the others, but… I think, if we really stay together, we’ll get through.
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You don't hate him?
You're lying. [But he doesn't sound convinced. His brows are knit together, unsure. That can't be right...
[Surely, considering...they must.]
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I’m not.
[Maybe that’s what frustrates her. It’d be easier than ever to hate him now. Hate points a sharp object at someone’s throat and tells them to die—that’s easy.
[Truth is not easy.]
I’m so angry at him. I didn’t want to face him. But I can’t…
[They left her again, at the lake. Aubrey’s tired of old mistakes.]
I will not let him be alone again.
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[All at once, the arms disappear. The world goes white again. Omori drops back down to his normal height, lowering the knife.
[They've forgiven him? How...]
Sorry.
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[She nearly drops to her knees when the world fades to white, grabbing at her own arms to hold the wound shut. It’s some dumb stroke of luck she doesn’t fall on his blade—or so Aubrey thinks, before she realizes Omori lowered the knife himself.
[Leftover adrenaline leaves her shivering, head bowed. God, if she’s ever restrained like that again…]
S-“sorry”… [The sputtering echo is more baffled than anything.] After all that....
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[What will happen now that Sunny doesn't need him anymore? Will he go away? Will he ever see him again?]
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[Her shoulders slump when the knife disappears. She’s starting to think she could kill to never see a sharp object pointed at anyone ever again.]
[Some part of her waits—more retribution, more interrogation. The other shoe has to drop.
[But it doesn’t. Aubrey looks up and Omori’s just… sitting there.]
[He looks so, so much like Sunny. Despite herself, Aubrey’s expression softens.]
[There’s just a bit more quiet, as the slashes scab over. It’s not pretty. Will it be more or less disturbing if they’re still there, when she wakes up? The very thought of this being a dream, nightmare, whatever it might be—feels silly in and of itself.]
[Finally:] You really thought I’d hate him.
So you wanted me to die.
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To save him...
Sunny...
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[She almost got killed to protect Sunny’s fragile, fabricated peace.]
[Aubrey should be mad about that, maybe. He looks like Sunny. He has the piano’s name and the boy’s knife. And he wants to keep Sunny safe… from them.]
[There’s a lot she still doesn’t understand, and hell forbid Kel or Hero wind up here… But for once, Aubrey can try not to make it worse.]
I can’t speak for the others, but… I think, if we really stay together, we’ll get through.
No one else has to die.
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[He can accept that.]
Take care of him...
Please...
He can't do it on his own.
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I will. [A nod, small but resolute.] I think… we all will.
[Kel reached out before any of them. Basil seemed happy. And surely, with time, even Hero can pull through.
[They’ll be there for each other. They’ll call, this time. They won’t let anyone fall astray.
[It can mend. It has to.]
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[He's starting to fade.]
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Omori…?
[She reaches for him.]
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[His voice is warped, far away like he's down the road, not sitting right in front of her. When she touches him, her hand fazes through nothing.]
He's so sorry...
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Omori....
[It’s disconcerting, to touch an illusion. But she pulls for his hand anyway, as if to clasp it. A silent promise.]
I hope he can forgive himself, too.
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[Maybe..
[He can...
[Omori clasps her hands back. He underestimated them...Sunny's idealized versions aren't all that different after all, as it turns out.]
Bye, Aubrey.
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[He’s smiling....]
[She squeezes hands that aren’t there. There’s the faintest trace of a smile in return.]
Bye, Omori.