Her courage starting taking shape.
"Did someone break your monocle, Fall?" Spring asked again.
He stepped back.
One. Two.
For a moment, he didn't answer.
His gaze dropped to her hand—
Where the charm rested, glimmering faintly in her palm.
His jaw clenched.
The muscle there twitched beneath skin.
"Break, no…"
A pause.
"…But messed with it, yes."
Almost a whisper.
The words dropped between them like a stone—
Heavy.
Spreading ripples neither of them could stop.
"When?" she asked. Instinct.
He didn't answer.
Her hand curled tighter around the charm.
Knuckles paling.
Her eyes searched his face.
Unwilling to let it end there.
"Who?"
His gaze flickered. Guarded.
"It doesn't matter."
"It does."
Her voice was stronger now.
He blinked.
Just once.
"Why do you want to know now?"
His voice dropped. Eyes glinting with something that almost looked like fear.
"If it doesn't matter, why won't you say it?"
She stepped forward.
Her pulse hammered in her throat.
But she didn't stop.
She couldn't.
His expression twisted.
Like he was swallowing fire.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
His hand flexed at his side—
Fingers curling and uncurling.
Slow. Controlled.
He swallowed hard.
And then he finally spoke.
"You already know."
Spring's breath caught.
Her fingers gripped the rune tighter.
Her eyes scanned his face—
Desperate.
Searching for a lie he wasn't offering.
But he didn't blink.
Didn't falter.
His gaze held hers like a lock.
"I don't," she whispered.
"I don't know."
A beat.
Then he shook his head.
A bitter smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"Yes, you do."
Softer now.
Worse.
"You've always known."
Her hands fell to her sides.
Knuckles white.
Eyes glossy—
With confusion.
"Why wouldn't you just—"
He looked at her.
His eyes burned.
"I don't want to tell you," he cut her off.
Flat.
"Because I knew you'd find out when you were ready. And we are…"
He paused.
"…Close."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Dense with all the things neither of them had the strength to say.
Her eyes dropped to the charm.
It felt heavier now.
Like it carried a thousand memories.
She clutched it even tighter.
Didn't want Fall to see—
How hard it was glowing.
Her lips pressed together.
Her gaze flicked back to his.
But she didn't press him again.
"…We need to keep going."
Her voice was steady.
That quiet kind of final.
She turned.
Started walking.
Every step deepened the space between them.
Fall's hand instinctively reached out—
To catch hers.
But he stopped.
Just in time.
Before it could touch.
They walked again in silence.
Spring couldn't stop thinking about his words.
You already know.
You've always known.
Could it be?
It can't…
Can it?
No. That can't be right.
There's no way.
One image kept creeping in.
Winter came to attack Fall right in time to destroy the memory lens.
Was that only a coincidence?
Fall noticed her.
Too quiet.
Too thoughtful.
"Say, Spring…"
His voice broke the stillness—caught her off guard.
"Have you ever wondered what demons actually eat?"
"Huh? But you said…"A pause."You mean other than chocolate?"
"Mhm. That's nothing but a treat."
She turned her gaze to him, curious.
"Restraint."
His smirk bloomed wide across his face.
She almost rolled her eyes. "Of course…"
"I'm not even joking."
"Right."
"I'm serious. And it's not necessarily other people's restraint I crave—it's mine too." He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting. "Although yours is quite delicious, I might add."
He gave a half-smile. "I'm not proud of it, but—" he leaned a little closer, voice dipping—"the taste of faltering restraint? Uhh, almost as good as chocolate."
She smiled despite herself.
"You know," she said, tilting her head, "I've been meaning to ask. You never use your daggers anymore. So why do you still carry them? Just to threaten Winter when he talks too much in the castle?"
He blinked slowly, then grinned. "Oh, we're getting personal now."
She raised an eyebrow.
"And if I said yes," he added, "would you believe me?"
Her smile grew.
His didn't fade.
"I keep them," he said after a beat, "as a reminder."
She stilled.
"That I wasn't always like this."
The moment tilted.
"Fall…"
He didn't look at her. "No, it's fine. Really."A breath. Then quieter:"I just… I needed something. Anything to hold on to. "
She opened her mouth to respond—But he cut in, tone suddenly brighter.
"Oh, would you look at that."
A town.
Not far now.
"No way…" she breathed.
She could hear it already. It was jam-packed.
"What do you know. Maybe we'll run into another fair."
"I am not playing anything this time."
The town was alive.
Not like the underwater fair—soft and dreamlike—
But buzzing with noise and motion.
Spirits swirled through winding paths, flickering in and out of view.
Voices overlapped, laughter spilled into the streets.
Music throbbed from somewhere deep in the market, threading through the crowd.
Spring found herself stepping closer to Fall without thinking.
The crowd pressed in—thick with spirit energy that prickled across her skin.
"Well," Fall drawled, glancing over his shoulder,
"Looks like we found a capital."
But Spring wasn't listening.
Her gaze swept the crowd—
Spirits of every kind drifting through shadow and half-light.
It was chaotic.
Disorienting.
And then—
She saw him.
Small.
Dark hair.
Golden and black eyes, too big for his face.
Barefoot.
Moving through the crowd with quiet steps, slipping between spirits.
Spring's breath caught.
"No…"
But she knew.
She knew.
"Fall" she whispered.
The boy slipped deeper into the market, running past spirits that didn't even seem to notice him.
Spring's feet moved before she could think.
One step—
Then another—
Faster.
She shoved through clusters of spirits, their translucent bodies wavering as she passed.
Faces turned.
No one spoke.
"Wait!" she called, voice barely cutting through the noise.
"Fall!"
The boy kept going.
Steady.
Calm.
Almost floating.
"Spring!"
Fall's voice—real Fall—called sharply behind her.
But she didn't stop.
The boy turned a corner.
Just a flicker of movement—
And she chased him.
Gone.
"Spring!"
Fall shouted again.
He moved to follow—
But before he could take a step,
a flash of crimson sliced through the air.
Instinct.
His arm shot up, shadows curling around his wrist—
Catching the blade just in time.
Fire ground against shadow.
Sparks flared.
He jerked back—eyes wide—
And met a grin he hadn't seen in days.
Too short, for him.
Crimson hair.
Eyes like a dragon.
A dagger in her hand, gleaming with fire.
Summer.
Her grin sharpened.
"Hello, demon boy," she drawled, the blade still pressed to his hand.
"Been a while."
Fall's gaze hardened. His hands turned to claws.
"Gods, why couldn't it have been Winter again?"
Summer attacked again.
And again.
And again.
"Where. Is. SHE?"
Relentless.
"Goddammit, Summer! I don't have time for this!"
Fall parried every move.
"You know, Fall," she said, her strikes unceasing.
The crowd had formed a ring around them, watching.
She pressed against his guarding arm.
A pause—
"I wanted to keep it civil. I tried. For Dante. For her. I kept my cool."
Her eyes burned.
"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"
Another clash.
"HOW COULD YOU?"
Every question came with a faster, harder hit.
"You went to her, didn't you? Through the Veil? Breaking her wasn't enough—you had to go all the way."
"What are you talking about?" he growled, still blocking.
"What am I talking about?"
She laughed—loud, unhinged.
Then it died.
"Where is she?"
A breath. Another attack.
"You just happened to be here without her? You went through with it this time, didn't you?"
She lunged again. He parried. They locked blades.
"Let me break it to you, you little shit."
Her breath was ragged.
"I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I hoped—hoped—that if you ever reached her, you'd stab your own dick with your garbage daggers just to make her pity you. Just to look at you again."
She paused, eyes wild.
"I can feel her, you scumbag. I know she was here. And you're here. Alone."
She struck. Again. He blocked. Again.
"Summer…" His voice was raw. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"Wasn't it enough?"
Another strike.
"Wasn't the lake enough?"
Softer now. Almost a whisper.
"The lake…?"
His blade faltered—just a second.
She froze.
"You… you didn't know."
She stepped back.
They stared at each other—both confused now.
Her dagger rose. Sharp. Unyielding.
Fall lifted his hands. Palms open.
"Summer. She is here. She was right next to me just a moment ago. She ran through the crowd—I tried to follow her."
Her gaze flicked over him.
He wasn't lying.
"You—"
"I'm not lying. I can't see her anymore. It has to be the Veil."
Summer's grip loosened, but her suspicion didn't.
She activated her trinket.
"Where is she, Fall?"
Something burned inside him.
"I don't know," he said, voice heavy. "She was just right here."
She stared at him for a long beat.
Then—
Her daggers slid back into place.
Arms crossed tight over her chest.
Eyes to the ground.
"Summer…"
His voice was low now.
"What lake?"
A flicker of fear moved through his features.
"Why the fuck should I tell you?" she snapped.
Then she turned.
Started walking.
And he followed.
They searched.
And searched.
But this was the Veil.
And above that, a capital full of spirits.
They both knew it was pointless.
But they clung to hope.
Summer more than Fall.
When it became unbearably obvious they couldn't do anything, she broke the silence.
"That girl must've been really good, huh?"
Her voice was taunting. Sharp.
"Knew exactly where to touch. What wounds to lick."
Fall closed his eyes.
Jaw tight.
He knew this was coming.
But it was worse than he imagined.
Summer was everything Spring wasn't.
No filter.
No mercy.
"She must've had fingers like feathers," Summer pressed.
"Whispered all the right words."
A pause. Her gaze burned.
"She knew the exact spot where you were weak."
Silence stretched.
"Your fidelity."
Fall stopped walking.
Fists clenched.
Shadows curled around his knuckles, pulsing.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said.
His voice low. Cold.
"Oh, I don't?"
Summer scoffed.
"I saw it, Fall. In her memories. I saw her. All over you. The way you—"
"Stop."
His voice cracked like a whip.
She didn't.
"I bet you didn't even think of her, did you? Didn't even see her face when she—"
"I said stop."
"Bet she moaned real sweet, huh?"
Summer's voice was poison.
"Or did she cry for you? Beg?"
"Summer…"
His voice was raw.
"She must've," she hissed.
"Must've looked right at you while you fucked her and told you it was worth it."
"ENOUGH!"
Shadows exploded from his feet, ripping up the street like living fire.
Stone cracked.
The air dropped ten degrees.
Spirits shrieked—scattering like smoke.
Summer's grin widened.
"There it is," she whispered.
"The real you. The demon. That's what you are now."
Fall stepped forward.
Slow. Predatory.
Shadows clung to him, ready to attack.
"You're trying to get yourself killed, Summer."
"Funny," she said, flipping a dagger without flinching.
"I thought that was your specialty."
Their eyes locked.
Flame and void.
But beneath the rage, you could see it in both of them—
Pain.
Fall's voice lowered.
"I don't know what you think you saw.
But you're wrong."
Her smile faltered—just for a second.
Then it was back.
Venom.
"You want to believe that.
But I don't have to."
She moved.
Red arcane flared.
She lunged—blades low and high.
Fall blocked one—shadows shielding him.
But the second blade slashed his shoulder.
He hissed—then darkness burst from his hands in a wave.
That threw her off.
Summer jumped on the wall near them—flipped—landed and crouched.
Darted back in.
They clashed.
Steel met claw again.
Her speed was blinding—
But he matched her.
Every strike laced with fury.
Every dodge carved from restraint he was barely holding onto.
They clashed again.
"Summer," he spat, raking sparks off her blade and his claws,
"I nearly killed you when you cursed me. You were lucky Dante and Winter held me in the castle—and the rest took the hit. I was coming for you. And you know it. "
"Don't. Push. Me."
"You think you're the one who lost her?" she snarled, hair whipping into her face.
"I watched her fall apart.
I carried her while she wished she was dead.
And she almost—"
She faltered.
Just for a second.
The memory too sharp to name.
Fall noticed.
He stilled.
Just long enough.
She leapt.
Rolled over him—
Her dagger slashed clean across his cheek.
"Don't talk to me about pain," she hissed.
"You don't get to."
He turned, face burning.
His eyes blazed.
Shadows roared outward—
Crashing up the walls.
Shattering a beam above them.
"You stole her from me!" he shouted.
"No—you stole her from me, boy!"
They crashed again.
Harder.
Faster.
This time—
Neither of them held back.