Chapter Text
Azure liked to believe that Two Time was gone because they had chosen to leave. In his version of it, there had been rain that day— soft, silver rain that blurred the edges of everything and made it easier not to look too closely. The sky had been pale and forgiving. Two Time had stood just ahead of him, silhouette softened by fog and drizzle, shoulders relaxed instead of trembling.
His voice trembled with desperation. “You—You wanted it! You said—”
“—whatever you needed to hear?” Two Time snapped. Their voice cracked mid-sentence, grief twisting into fury. “Is that what I said? Add it to your bedtime story, Azure. Go ahead, make it fit the version where you were always the good one.”
Azure’s breath hitched. He stepped back and Two Time followed. Deliberate and unhurried. Blade in hand—low, loose. Casual. Like there was no longer a need for theatrics. “Tell me,” Two Time murmured, eyes burning, “does your little fantasy still help you sleep?”
“Do you still dream of holding my hand as I walked away?”
Azure’s legs gave out. He crumpled into the dirt like a puppet with cut strings. The grass was cold and damp beneath his knees, soaking through the fabric. “Please…” he choked. It wasn’t clear if it was an apology or a plea. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Two Time crouched low. The movement was slow, careful—almost intimate. The blade hovered beneath Azure’s chin. Just not exactly cutting yet.
“I loved you,” they whispered. “And you offered me up like a lamb.” Azure’s hands gripped the dirt. His mouth opened again, trembling on the edge of another excuse— but no words came. “You looked me in the eye,” Two Time continued, voice growing quieter. “You said I’d understand. That it wouldn’t hurt for long. That it meant something.”
“Then you cut me open.”
The words landed heavier than any blade. Azure started crying. Quietly. Without his own approval. His body trembled, still trying to hold together the mask that had already shattered. “I—I didn’t know what else to do,” he whispered. “They said they’d kill us both—”
“You made a choice,” Two Time said. No heat in their voice. “And now, so do I.” They leaned in and the blade tilted. “You don’t get to forget anymore.” And then— without the love they had, they drove the blade in.
It was clean. Precise. Right between the ribs. Azure’s breath hitched once, sharp, fast— then left him entirely. His body twitched. The fog curled tighter around them and Two Time let him fall gently, almost reverently, to the dirt.
“You carved them open.”
“You watched them beg.”
“You said they’d understand.”
The shriek of static gave way to silence, and the world around Azure tore apart like wet paper, light bending away as darkness swallows him whole—
Stillness.
…
Azure opened his eyes and found himself standing infront of the stairs. He just stood there, hands trembling before squeezing his arms just to keep it together. "It wasn't them" He repeated it once. Twice. Three times and only then did he let himself breathe.
Then they smiled. Not a big smile. Just the gentle one— the one that said I’m okay, the one that fellow survivors came to for comfort after rough rounds. They rolled their shoulders back, smoothed their sleeves, anything really.
Noli leaned against one of the couches with C00lkidd laying on top of him. Itrapped was nearby, silent, staring at the void with an irritated look as always. Noli looked at them, “that round was rough, huh?” he said, tone light.
“Yeah…got cornered, and— it’s—…the new killer, didn’t really know what they could do” Noli hummed without answering.
They can’t know how hard you’re shaking.
Don’t let them see the way your breath hitches
Don’t think about their voice.
Don’t think about the blade.
Don’t think about how their eyes looked when they said “you offered me up.”
Azure reached for the thermos on the counter— somehow always full of warm tea regardless of who left it and poured themself a cup with steady hands. They took a slow sip. noticed John Doe passing by looking quite dazed. “Hey, John,” they said, “that scratch on your arm— do you want me to take a look? I’ve got wrap and antiseptic in my bag, always.”
John Doe jumps then glanced at it, muttered, “It’s fine.” Azure just nodded, unconcerned. “Offer’s always there.” They smiled again. Not too wide, just enough. Then they looked into the firelight and let their thoughts drift— not to what happened, but to the version he allowed.
It wasn’t Two Time.
They’re gone, long gone.
They walked away.
They forgave me.
They understood.
I didn’t carve them open, they left.
I’m not shaking, I’m calm.
I’m not scared, I’m helping.
I’m helping.
I’m helping.
I always help.
Azure held onto their performance like it was their only lifeline and maybe it was. Every smile, every gentle offer of help, every quiet hum by the firelight was another layer of armor— paper-thin, yes, but sacred. They wore their kindness like a second skin, sewn carefully over the rot underneath, daring it not to show through.
If he stopped smiling, even for a moment, he might start remembering and if he remembered…