She's close.

After hours of wandering in hopes of meeting the Legendary Beasts, she'd almost given up. She'd found neither hide nor hair of them, not even so much as a footprint in the mud. She'd almost given up, to be honest. She was exhausted, she was out of supplies, and she had work tomorrow... Or, today? Or, maybe the day after tomorrow? Ack... She'd been here for so long, she couldn't even remember what day it was. And still, she had nothing to show for it...!

But just as she was getting ready to turn around and return the way she'd came, she heard it: A noble roar, unmistakable in its power and its majesty. That was it. That was them! At least, it was one of them! She wasn't sure which one, but she intended to find out.

And so, Mitsuru ran. She ran with a singleminded determination to meet these mythical creatures she'd been taught to respect and revere. She ran right past slumbering Brute Bonnets and Iron Bundles idly filling their sacks with crystals and berries. She ran into the forest, completely ignoring everything else around her. She ran so fast, she didn't even notice the mist swirling around her feet, not the darkness encroaching from all around her. She ran, she ran, and she ran, until...

She finally came face-to-face with it.

And then, a bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the Great Chasm.

---

nikkari hect
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She ran.

She ran and she ran and she ran.

She ran until her chest was tight and her lungs empty. She ran until her feet were sore and her legs shaky. She ran until her rhythm of her heartbeat was a cacophony devoid of rhyme and rhythm. And yet, despite that, she couldn't get away. She pushed herself as hard as she could and gave all she had to give, and it still wasn't enough.

She didn't even know what she was running from. Maybe she never did. But she knew it was right behind her. She knew it was going to catch her. And she knew it was going to hurt her.

Mitsuru Kagami is no warrior. She's not a soldier, nor a ranger. She's not built for this. Her body is already at its limits. All that's keeping her going is adrenaline and instinct, but with a will closer to water than iron, even those things leave her, too.

Until finally, she can take no more. She stumbles, she trips, and then, she falls. She hits the ground like a freshly slain corpse, waiting for the last of its life to leave it. She can't even move anymore. Her body won't even let her scream. All she can do is lay there, gasping for breath, and pray that it won't be as bad as she knows it is.

---

nikkari hect
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She made a mistake.

She wanted to meet them. She wanted to see them. It had been so long. All she wanted was one chance. To see their faces. To know they were alright. To know she didn't have to worry about them anymore. She knew that was selfish. She knew she had no right. She knew she lost the privilege. But was it really so wrong?

The warmth beneath her skin drains out, and in comes a creeping chill. The cold is intolerable, and yet, so familiar to her. Is it snowing? It feels like it's snowing. She hopes it's snowing. Like it was back then.

Back then... She wished she could go back then. More than anything else in the world. But she can't go back. Not anymore.

She tried for so long, and it wasn't good enough. Then, she tried even harder, and it wasn't good enough. Even now, as she tries her hardest, it just isn't good enough. What about tomorrow? Can she push herself any more? Does she have anything left to give? Will she ever have enough? Maybe this is for the best. It's too hard to keep trying. It's time to just accept the consequences of the past thirty-five years.

And for a while, she does. Ribbons tie themselves around her soul. The river is calling. It's time to cross.

And then, she hears a voice calling. The same voice, but different. She trusts it. She believes it. She doesn't know why. She has no reason to, but she does.

And so, she calls out into the dark.

"Help..."

---

nikkari hect
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Meaning begins to fade away. Petty things like truth and ideals melt like ice beneath the hot sun. What's real? What's not? It's so hard to tell, isn't it? She can't even believe in simple things, like the black or the white. Its all just empty shapes, phantoms dancing shades of gray.

A silhouette stands above her. What is it? Predator? Prey? Something else entirely? Maybe, no, maybe. She can imagine herself being devoured by some beast or murderer or l̷o̷v̴e̷r̷, and she can imagine some third scenario, but the second? No. There is no hunter within her. No rough edges or unwelcome hardness. This is a rose without thorns, as pleasant as can be. Perhaps that's why Arceus makes her suffer so much.

Is this a test?

No. To be tested implies one would be worthy of judging in the first place. And she's anything but.

This can only be taken at face value. Delirious, she considers the unspoken offer in front of her: If she doesn't take it, she will die. Nothing more. If she does... Well, she doesn't know. But it can't be worse than death. It can't be worse than suffering. It can't be worse than what she's gone through before.

Summoning what little strength remains within her, she reaches for the outstretched arm.

---

nikkari hect
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Is it the light at the end of the tunnel, or just more darkness? Through bleary eyes drained of life, can she even tell the difference? Life and death, blood and tears, blessed and damned, the boundaries blur until they look the same.

Who is the silhouette standing in front of her? She made her choice, but the choice doesn't matter. Her options are between the known unknown and the unknown unknown. Like the difference between sticking her hand in murky water or dense mud. The choice is no choice. Just because she made it, that doesn't change anything in the end.

He's got her. They've got her. In the end, it doesn't matter. In the end, anyone but her has got her.

And so, she clings to him. Hanging onto him like driftwood in the roiling ocean of illusion, threatening to drown her whole. Dragged along by the flow of fates she wants to understand, but simply can't. Praying, begging, hoping to survive to the next dawn.

As she has, as she does, and as she always will.

---

nikkari hect
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