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Why do people confess when they’re on the brink of death? To avoid regrets? Charlotte knows she’ll have regrets even if she confessed now. Not having done it sooner. Not having let go of her foolish pride sooner. Not having realized her feelings sooner.
Not acting sooner.
For someone who’s always marched on and sneered at cowards, she approached her feelings laughably bad. Pretending she wasn’t in love. Pretending she wouldn’t have laid her life for that man. Pretending he hadn’t shattered her world the moment he saved her. How can anyone recover from that?
Yami’s eyes are unfocused, but there is still this light, a small light that tells Charlotte he’s still here. He’s still conscious. He could still hear her if she talked now. These dying eyes of his feel like an ultimatum.
Speak now or be forever silent.
Charlotte decides on the latter.
She’s been silent until now. Why would she end ten years of careful silence and tiptoeing? And why now? At a moment most unreasonable? She’s a captain, she’s sensible, she cautiously analyzes situations and acts accordingly.
Charlotte steadies herself. She ought to go. She ought to leave. Because if she stays with him as he’s dying… she will make a mistake. She will open her mouth and her feelings will pour out, unstoppable.
Charlotte holds Yami’s shoulder tighter, keeps her lips tightly shut, prays.
Why do people confess when they’re on the brink of death? Not to avoid regrets. Charlotte understands it now. Because at this precise moment her feelings are raging out of control and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, if she talked her love into existence then maybe she will be heard, maybe Fate would make it different for her and him, and maybe he’ll live. If Fate cared. If Fate bothered. If Fate didn’t only torment the souls they set their eyes on.
Why, Fate? Why put this man on Charlotte’s path if it’s to take him away? Wasn’t it just like in a fairy tale? Knight saves princess. Princess is forever grateful. They live happily ever after.
They live happily ever after.
At this precise moment, Charlotte doesn’t even know if he’ll live at all and she doesn’t even know how she’ll live if he doesn’t.
If she had talked earlier, would anything have changed? Wouldn’t he have died today regardless? Could her love have saved him on this battlefield?
Regrets are endless and forever will be. Charlotte will never know anything else than ifs. If she had talked earlier. If she had cared a little less about her reputation. If she had cared a little more about her own happiness. If she had found the strength to let go of the fortress she built around her heart. But she was weak. And now he’s dying. And now, there is nothing, nothing that can be done anymore.
His voice takes her out of her head, back into the present and she feels his body under her fingertips again, still warm but already so stiff.
“Does that cup of tea still hold?”
Charlotte can hardly believe what she hears. His voice. It’s not strained. It’s not any different to his usual detached tone. She hopes. Foolishly. But what can she do? She hopes. She’s about to tell him that yes, of course the cup still holds. This one and all the ones after that. Forever. Happily ever after. But then he coughs and she remembers. He’s not walking out of this alive. He’s not going to tell her anything more. Once he closes his eyes, he’s not going to wake up. They’ll never have that cup of tea. Instead, his smile will be stuck on his face. He’ll close his eyes and drift away.
Forever silent.
Confessions on the brink of death. How can anyone do that? How can anyone stomach it? Charlotte’s heart was just broken by the mere promise of a cup.