Chapter Text
The cold winter sea greedily pulled two struggling bodies into its abyss. Aqua clung to his father's neck with his last strength, as if to death itself, determined to strangle him before the icy water could fill his lungs. Blood from a small wound on Hikaru Kamiki's head trickled down his face, mixing with the seawater. His vision blurred, the throbbing pain in his skull muffled all thoughts, and his consciousness desperately clung to life.
Suddenly, something dark flashed through the depths, wrapping around Hikaru's body. Aqua immediately recognized the silhouette—it was his "ghost of the past," the shadow of Gorou Amamiya, which had always reminded him of Ai's death. But in this moment, the ghost, like a loyal ally, came to his aid. Aqua's eyes widened; he wasn't sure if this was an illusion, a hallucination, or a divine intervention. One way or another, Hikaru's body, convulsing in resistance, began to sink to the bottom. His hands reached upward, his red, fear-stricken eyes locked onto Aqua, but Aqua simply stared, unblinking, as his father's face contorted in mortal terror.
The current grabbed Aqua and carried him further away. The wound on his abdomen bled, slowly painting the water red. The pain was sharp and piercing, yet bearable. Much worse was the burning in his chest from the lack of oxygen. His strength was leaving him, but he still fought to stay afloat.
So this is how it ends...
The thought flickered through Aqua's mind as his gaze pierced the water's surface to the night sky above. For a brief moment, he managed to glimpse the vast, star-strewn canvas, and amidst all its grandeur, he spotted one bright, six-pointed star. It shone brilliantly, piercing through the darkness.
And at that moment, he saw her.
Tsukuyomi hovered above the water like the shadow of the moon, her figure bathed in shimmering starlight. Her gaze held a calm certainty, but there was a hidden sadness within it. Her voice echoed in Aqua's mind, clear and vivid, as if she were standing right in front of him:
— Have you found your purpose?
Her words resonated in Aqua's consciousness, and a flood of thoughts overwhelmed him, filling the last fragments of his fading mind. He remembered everything—Ruby, her smile, her dreams, their fight for justice. Now he understood. His purpose was clear: to protect his little sister.
A faint smile touched his lips as Aqua allowed himself to sink into the abyss, knowing he had done everything he could to give Ruby a chance at a happy life.
***
Aqua awoke in a completely white space, where everything seemed to lack form and boundaries. His clothes were dry, and his stomach was whole, without a trace of the wound. He sat there, unsure of what exactly he was sitting on, but feeling an eerie sense of peace. Tsukuyomi stood beside him, silent but as majestic as ever.
— Where am I? — he whispered, but she simply raised her hand, signaling him to be silent, and pointed forward.
Aqua turned his head, and what he saw filled his heart with warmth.
Before him, as if on a screen, unfolded a scene from his past life: Gorou Amamiya rushing into a familiar hospital room. On the bed lay a young girl with a bandaged head and an artificial ventilator.
Sarina.
She looked weak, but alive. Aqua watched as, with each passing second, her frail body seemed to regain strength. The tumor had been removed, the operation was successful. The doctors reassured her that everything would be fine. Sarina was alive.
Gorou fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as he held her delicate hand. He whispered something, but the words were lost in the noise of emotions. The next scenes showed Gorou helping Sarina through her recovery—her first steps, the reunion with her parents, the smile that finally returned to her face.
And then—the scene he had always dreamed of. Sarina standing on stage, radiant, singing alongside Ai.
— Is this a dream? — Aqua asked, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks.
— Of course, it's a dream, — Tsukuyomi answered softly. — A dream just for you.
— In the end... who was I? This happiness I feel... does it belong to Aqua or Gorou? — he asked, still searching for the truth.
— If you feel happiness, then it belongs to you. That is all that matters, — Tsukuyomi's gaze was full of understanding.
Aqua fell silent, but one thought gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the doubts.
— But... I left her, — he said quietly. — That was a mistake. A selfish decision. Maybe all I did was cause more trouble.
Tsukuyomi, who had been silent until now, let out a heavy sigh. Her gaze turned thoughtful as visions of possible futures unfolded in her mind.
She saw everything.
She saw Ruby, lost without her brother. Saw how she searched, hoping for any chance to see Aqua again. Tsukuyomi could have lied, but that would only have led Ruby to destroy herself from within, desperately clinging to false hope. Even if she lived a long life, it would be an existence filled with emptiness.
But the worst scenario was yet to come. The truth of Aqua's death would crush Ruby, and broken by grief, she would follow him, drowning her soul in the same abyss.
Every outcome led to her destruction.
Tsukuyomi closed her eyes, trying to find at least one glimmer of hope, a thin thread that could guide Ruby out of this labyrinth of pain.
And then, like a flash of light, another possibility appeared before her. It defied the rules, went against the very fabric of fate. But it was their last hope.
She looked at Aqua, and there was something in her gaze that made his heart clench. Her voice, soft yet tinged with sorrow, carried a strange, almost human longing:
— Perhaps you're right... It was selfish of me. — A faint, sorrowful smile touched her lips. — But you see... even gods are not without feelings.
She stepped closer, and their eyes met. For the first time, Aqua noticed just how deep her eyes were—glowing with a cold starlight, like an endless cosmos he could drown in. In that infinity, he saw a resolute determination, untouched by time or destiny.
— I could bring you back... but not as Aqua Hoshino, — she said, and in her words was the weight of inevitability.
Aqua felt a shiver run down his spine. He wanted to say something, to protest, but the words caught in his throat.
— From now on, a new chapter begins... — she continued, reaching out to him, — and it's time for you to make things right.
Her voice seemed to seep into the deepest corners of his being, wrapping around his mind. The stars in her eyes flared brighter, and in that instant, Aqua's world trembled, crumbling into endless darkness.
The last thing he saw was her solemn, yet hopeful gaze.
Then, only void remained.