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TWILIGHT :

Joon appeared in the reception room where he sensed Anya was present. He saw her calmly reading a book, but something seemed. . . off. She was too blank, like a doll.

"Little Fruit?"

His soft question startled Anya badly, who closed her eyes as soon as she heard his voice. For a few seconds, she did not open them.

"Little Fruit?" Joon walked forward to reach where she had been sitting, sliding beside her on the sofa and taking her in his arms, "What is wrong? Are you okay? Are you upset for Mira? Or did Mira upset you?"

Anya just turned towards him and encircled his neck, placing her chin on his shoulder, she simply hugged him.

"Blueberry?" Joon was becoming afraid, "Are you okay?"

"Just hold me for some time?" Anya quietly whispered against his black suit coat, "You were late."

A joyous smile tugged his lips when he understood that she missed him. Joon made a show of lifting her up and placing her on his lap, "Then I need to do a good job of it to compensate for being late, right?" he teased her lightly and relaxed back on the sofa with her.

Anya clung to him.

Satisfied by her closeness, for the first few minutes, all Joon did was just soothe her, dropping kisses on her head, shoulders and neck. He basked in the warmth and slight weight of her body on him, cherishing it as a parched man would treasure each drop of water.

With the continued silence, Joon's eyes wandered a bit when he saw a difference in the room.

Petting the girl who clung to him fiercely, he asked lovingly, "Did you redecorate the room? I like the minimalistic approach. Just the coffee table and this sofa around the carpet."

Anya didn't respond.

"No, I really mean it," Joon lied good naturedly, pleasing his Love, "I really like it."

He then noticed her hair up in a bun, "You tied it all up?" shaking his head with silent nostalgia, he said, "Do you know what was my first concern regarding you few days after we became friends? I would worry that if you were injured, would I be able to make it out at all? Your hair was so long and voluminous on you, it used to cover almost whole of your body when it was left open."

Chuckling on recalling his memories, he continued in a low, content voice, "You were just a small little girl who was 80% black hair and 20% blue eyes. That's all I can see whenever I try to picture the past. The day you came to me with your hair cut, that look on your face. . ."

Joon laughed out, his mirth coming from his chest, filling the house with its cheer.

"Even though I was happy to be able to see you in that style, I just couldn't get over how very adorable you were looking with your cheeks puffed up and red angry eyes. You looked even rounder! A round adorable small Blueberry." He dropped another kiss on her head.

"But I had to make sure I would not leak a smile. You were terribly angry and it was the most difficult thing in my life trying to keep a straight face." Joon whispered, lost in the memories, "But you caught on to me anyways! You saw the humour in my eyes. Damn, you flew into a tantrum. Refused to talk to me for three whole days."

Joon rested his chin over her head, finding comfort in her vanilla fragrance. "Do you remember what I had to do to make you forgive me?" he asked in a whisper, "I had to give you a promise that I would never have ice cream without you. If I wanted to eat one, I had to take you with me. And of course, I needed to buy you one every time I felt like having it."

A sob cut off whatever he was going to say next, his mood instantly shifting to focus on the girl sitting on his lap, hiding herself.

That was when he felt it, the growing wet patch on his chest where she had been hugging.

"Anya??" Joon tried to pull her away, but Anya just would not let go. She clutched the lapels of his coat, unwilling to let go, "Just a while longer. . ." her hoarse, tear drenched voice quietly said, "Please, just a little while longer."

"You want me to ignore you while you are sobbing in my arms???" Joon felt the familiar aching in his chest whenever he saw her crying, "ANYA! Let go of me!"

Not being able to do anything, Joon helplessly hugged her closer, shushing her. He hated the fact that she cried without a sound, often times making her sorrow unnoticeable.

He had no idea what had happened to make her this upset and it was slowly making his worry bleed into his growing anger at the cause of her misery.

His arms enfolded the slight frame of the girl, his embrace almost making her disappear as he sheltered her from the world.

"Shhhh. . . No Matter what, everything will be okay."

His reassurance made her break down more horribly, muffled sobs coming out of her mouth, which in turn turned Joon into an ice sculpture.

But, that did make her slowly collect herself. Joon worriedly rocked her, as he felt her shudders cease. He crooned to her, singing some old songs he remembered, his entire being focused on just his Little Fruit.

So when he heard the gate of the beach house opening, it caught him by surprise.

At the same time Anya lifted her tear stained, bloodshot crumpled face. She sat back on his lap, letting Joon catalogue the utter desolation and bleakness reflected in her eyes. Then, she smiled a heart breaking smile,

"Time's up." She brokenly whispered.

"What is wrong Anya. Tell me right now." Joon seriously asked, his aura shifting greatly towards a guarded violence. Her appearance was wreaking him completely, a physical pain starting at the pit of his stomach at the unknown misery that he could not make any sense of.

Anya's lips trembled again when she saw his concern, but she bit them. Hard. So hard that Joon reached out to physically make her let go of her flesh, but she used this distraction to slide out of his lap and take a few steps back.

"Anya?" Joon stood up as well, following her, going out of his mind with worry, "Tell me!!"

Anya kept retreating, putting distance between them. Tired of this childish persistence, especially when he wanted to know what had distressed her to this extent, Joon decided to simply appear behind her to take her in his arms again.

Only, when he tried it, nothing happened.

Frowning, he looked at his Blueberry, who now had stopped moving back. She stood in the extended hall, utter despair staining her expression.

Joon decisively walked towards her with huge strides, relieved for a second that she did not move to avoid him again. But that single second of relief evaporated when he found himself unable to take a step further.

An invisible barrier stopped him from moving forward.

He looked down to see that he was standing right at the edge of the carpet. Trying to move forward again, he felt a pressure that choked him when he tried. The harder he tried, the more intense the pressure became.

Through it all, Anya wordlessly stared at his efforts, no surprise showing on her face.

Namjoon looked at her and realised.

She had done this.

Confused, he first cleared his head to get his priorities right, "Are you okay? Why were you crying?"

An indrawn breath of a wound being inflicted at his question, Anya simply crumpled on the floor, completely destroyed by his first concern still being her rather than what was happening to him.

"ANYA!!!" Joon screamed when he saw her fall down.

"An array has been painted beneath the carpet. That is what is holding you in the space." Her voice was barely audible.

Nodding his head, Joon too squatted down, "Okay, I understand, I get that. Are you okay?"

Silence reigned the room, while both of them knelt on the floor. The main door of the house opened and then closed. Light footsteps indicating who the visitor was.

Joon sighed, "Mira." Shaking his head, he asked again, "Was this her idea?"

"No Joon." Anya answered tonelessly, "It was mine."

Namjoon stopped talking when he heard her. There was an unnatural firmness in her voice, a sign of her gathering herself up to do whatever she had made up her mind too. Anya rubbed her face roughly with her palms, wiping away the tears, as Mira entered the room with downcast eyes, carrying a huge iron cauldron with her.

Without a word, she placed it before Anya. Then, she finally glanced towards Joon.

Both of them were surprised on seeing the other.

Namjoon, because he saw that she had been heavily crying. Mira's frame was unusually thin, with her cheeks hollowed out and dark circles under her eyes. She was swaying where she stood, her eyes still luminous with unshed tears.

And Mira, because she saw what Joon did not want her to know. The 'sight' that she had inherited from the Heo family bloodline was exceptionally strong for her. Namjoon's skin was dark and dry, his eyes completely red with black centre, dark maroon lines snaking across his body in a myriad tangle of webs. Intersped with maroon lines, twisting and tortuous bulging black lines also spread across his face and body, though less in amount. A dense black smoke slashed and swirled around him, its density almost opaque.

This was the real state of his soul that he had been afraid she could see. See and describe. That he was not some harmless ghost to be pitied and allowed to stay.

Mira saw it but did not speak about it at all. She did not gasp in fear, nor did she scream and start describing what she saw to Anya.

Instead, she cracked a small, sincere smile, "Its been a long time Joon." Her voice broke on his name, the tears spilling over, "I missed you, my friend." She managed to whisper through the convulsions of grief in her throat. "I really missed you."

Saying it again, she turned and left the hallway, giving them privacy.

Ignoring her, he sat down on the floor and focused back on Anya. He shrugged off his suit coat, and pulled his tie off, letting both the discarded items lie where they fell, no regard. He leaned back on his arms and curiously waited for what Anya would say, now that he knew the reason she was upset was by her own design.

Outside, the twilight passed its phase to give way to the full moon, the night just as beautiful as the night Joon had staggered to this very mansion, breathing his last.

But tonight, unlike the night a year ago, this house was lit with warm light, all the lampshades spilling golden illumination over the space which reflected the taste of its owner.

"Since when I was six, I would look forward to having bornfire nights with Mira. It was nothing much, just us two girls setting up a tent in Mira's room and then sleeping there. What made it special was that every year, on the day after we passed our exams, Mira's grandfather would come tell us stories as a reward."

Anya started speaking mechanically, playing with the etchings of the cauldron. Joon did not interrupt her, just gave her all his attention.

"The stories would always be related to the tales of the exorcisms and rituals conducted by their family over the history. How they would resolve the grievance of a soul using the song of Jangja, singing and untying the gopuri knots or the way a ritual had cleaned a place manifested with ugly, unclean presence."

"Not sure if these stories are quite appropriate for small children." Joon murmured.

Anya continued as if she didn't hear him, "In one of these stories, in a time before I met you, he told the story of a forbidden method that should never have been used. I remembered it from years ago and asked Mira to check if such a method truly was in existence or if it had been just a story."

Anya flicked the cauldron which made a clear vibrating sound, "As you can see, it exists."

Joon stared at her, "At least look at me when you talk."

"I checked with the hospital, that night, two days ago, indeed two patients had been admitted. One died due to bleeding in his brain, the other had a severe concussion but survived. He died because in his disorientation, he fell from the hospital stairs accidentally during the night he had been admitted when he should not have been walking at all. It was along the same time when we fought about him."

Joon sighed, "Is it about him again? Little Fruit, can you please stop thinking about that insignificant man?"

"That night," Anya continued, "Another person had also used the services of the doctor. The lawyer who had accompanied me to Ryong's. His right hand was broken and mauled in a bad accident." Anya paused, "Was it because he kept touching me when he was guiding me in which direction to go to? That light touch on my back?"

"A touch that lingered." Joon's voice was cold, "A touch, which he indulged in even when it was not needed."

No argument came forth from the girl who ceaselessly kept tracing the design of the object before her, "And it will just keep getting worse, won't it?"

This time Joon, did not answer.

"The time I was reading your journals, I suspected this would happen. I suspected that you would not understand what you were doing wrong. At that time, I thought I can just take you away from this society, have us both live my life out quietly in some small village. But I understood that it wouldn't have worked. Sooner or later, you would have spiralled out of control. I would just be in denial and delusional if I kept thinking it would work." Anya looked up at last.

His brows furrowed when he saw her. Even though her face was still tear stained, her eyes were blank. They were listless, without any spark of life in them.

"Even now, you are not taking anything I am saying seriously." Anya paused, then traced his face with her gaze, "Are you aware of the black bulging, tortuous lines on you?"

Taken aback, Joon looked behind her in the direction where Mira had gone.

Anya answered his unspoken question, "Mira did not need to tell me. That feature, I can see it myself."

Startled, Joon frowned, "You can see it?"

"Just that. You appear normal to me, but I can see those lines. I have no idea why." Anya let Joon digest it, then asked, "Do you know it gives off a scent? A sweet odour like that of rotten candies? Do you know what those lines are?"

Joon smirked, looking at her, not saying anything again.

He knew.

So did she.

"Those are the stains on your soul. Something that corrupts you. Something. . . unclean. It has already corrupted you Namjoon, it is the reason why I knew taking you away will not matter. This stain will only spread, influencing you to its power. That power is seductive, its tainted and most importantly, insidious. You will never even know, when you lost yourself completely in its clutches. By the time you understand, there will be no going back. Once down this path, there are no supports to stop your descent."

Anya took a deep breath, "And many will die. No matter what, many innocents will die. All by your hand, staining your essence further. The more those marks become etched in your body, the more your thoughts will keep distorting, the more deaths will keep occurring. It will be a vicious cycle Joon. And before long, even 'Monster' will not be able to describe what you become."

Though Joon did not say anything, he visibly flinched.

That was a word his family, his mother kept labelling him as. Before he understood any other language, his mother had taught him what to call himself. A monster. Something that she reminded him with her dying breath.

A word, which had influenced him, distorted him. . . pained him, since his childhood.

The only person who had never used it casually in front of him, was Anya. The only person who never saw him in that light was his Little fruit.

Her saying it to him was equivalent to a dull knife stabbed in his beating heart, twisting it on its way in.

It hurt him. More than he expected.

So much more than the number of times it had been used for him by the rest of the world.

"Ouch." He bitterly said.

"I cannot see that happening Joon. I really can't. No more innocent people need to die. I need to stop that from happening, now when its not too late. Only I can."

Anya's breathing started becoming irregular, a hint of sorrow entering her eyes, "Because I cannot even be certain if someday along the line you might not kill Mira or So Hyun. I really cannot let that happen. It will be wrong. When I can stop you, I should. That is the right thing to do."

In a thready voice, she whispered, "I need to stop you," She covered her face with shaking hands, "I am the only one who can." Her whisper became soft, "I, am the only one, who can."

Or he will fail his condition. This lifetime, will fail. The purpose will not only be defeated, but reversed.

Anya did not even question where her own voice saying things she did not remember, came from. The way her mind was, it behaved just like a filled sponge bursting with the water it had stored, letting the rest falling on it to simply flow away, without retaining a drop. She was too focused on what she had to do, to understand her distant memory.

Joon heard her with patience. He sat still, but barely.

He had died from his blood loss before the poison could take effect so his death had not been as painful as some of his childhood episodes of his mother's endeavours of physical injuries, but this moment. . . was a definition of pain that he had never reached before.

It felt like a dull edged saw was being pulled back and forth within his body, slashing through all his bleeding organs, breaking every bone on its way.

The churning, throbbing pain was gnawing at him like piercing bites, making him nauseous and disoriented.

"You need to stop me." He murmured.

Supporting himself, he staggered as he stood, the bashing hurt of realization robbing him of his air.

Realization at what Anya, was saying. What she intended to do.

Through it all, a silent calm was invading his senses, paralysing him at the same time increasing that ache in him.

Smiling bitterly, he asked, "Earlier, you said I was missing the experience of one important emotion that I had never felt. Had no knowledge of." Joon walked to the very edge of the barrier, putting one hand over the invisible wall in front of him,

"Tell me," he murmured, "was it Betrayal?"

Silence.

A soft chuckle filled with torment coloured the air, "If so, you were right. I have never experienced it before." He paused to breathe properly, "Its. . . agony is overwhelming."

He chuckled again, "Little Fruit, it seems like I cant breathe." His voice became softer, more wounded, "It hurts."

Her hands still covered her face, but Anya sat still without any movements.

"But it is such a waste. Shameful, in fact, for you to go through all this trouble." With the realization of her trying to kill him, Joon felt his heart truly becoming dead, "All you needed was to command me. One request was all that was required Blueberry, and I would have happily acquiesced."

His behaviour becoming more reckless and carefree, the more his pain intensified, he unbuttoned a few on his shirt and mussed his hair while asking, "So, how does this go? Mira performs it? Or you have been taking classes in one of those bornfire nights?"

His feet pulled back the edge of carpet to look at the array, looking impressed by its intricacy, "Fancy."

He felt a curious sensation of being lost, the feeling of being abandoned by the one person he most believed in, had loved. . . Anya tossing him aside while he ran after her, begging her to not leave.

He was a Monster, wasn't he? For even someone as good as the girl who had such a soft heart, to want him truly gone.

It Hurt.

It badly hurt.

But he didn't show it on the surface. He strolled to the sofa, lounging back on it, "But did you think of something Little Fruit? I told you, I am not a ghost, rather an abnormal entity. Will this planned exorcism of yours work on me?"

Getting no response, Joon lashed out, trying to dig deeper. He became a masochist who wanted her to say it plainly, wanted her to admit to what she was doing in clear words.

He wanted the final confirmation that even she, could not stay with him.

The girl he would give his entire existence to protect, was the one who wanted to get rid of him. For the greater good.

"Hmmm, Blueberry? What then? What if it fails? Will you not be afraid of me?" the façade of his menacing words was easily broken by the sheen of tears that collected in his eyes but did not fall.

So what? She could not accept a few deaths? What was so special about humans anyways? How could she give up on the love she nurtured for fourteen years over future strangers she hadn't even met?

He only ever wanted her. All he ever wanted was to stay close to her, to be able to take her in his arms.

Was it too much to bear? His obsession? The consequences of it?

Maybe it was.

Joon thought then. Maybe, she was right, a soft voice inside his head said.

Maybe, this was not him, this distortion of his perception.

He was a threat to her happiness. If he did harm people she cared for, he would take away her joy completely. Because, he really could not guarantee if he would never hurt those three.

Besides her, there was nothing else that he put value enough to protect. Even from himself.

"If it fails," he hoarsely whispered, "Then don't be afraid. I still will not hurt you."

Joon closed his eyes, feeling broken, "I am incapable of hurting you."

Feeling tired, he did not have any desires left anymore. He suddenly hoped that it would succeed, that it would be over soon.

If his true death was what she wanted, he needed to give it to her. The small girl with blue eyes who had saved him years ago. His life belonged to her anyway.

"Just. . . begin Anya. Be merciful enough to begin right away." His whisper full of sorrow floated in the room as he leaned back, his closed eyes never opening.

His words had an effect on the kneeling girl, who nodded and drew a breath, bracing herself. Reaching for the objects inside the cauldron, Anya one by one picked up the items, lining them on the floor.

The sprig wick, the small red bundle tied with a thing rope, a handkerchief, datura and moonflower, a parchment with writings on it and a small knife.

Somewhere behind her, a constant chanting started, Mira getting the indication to start from hearing the noises made by Anya. Her voice was steady but filled with reluctance and sorrow.

Anya quietly started completing her tasks. Making the array according to the specifications with specific materials had been the toughest, the rest being easy. The location had to be the place of death, which she knew it was.

The fact that the array worked, was the indication she needed. That what she was doing, was the right thing to do.

She brought out the matchsticks from the side drawer, her heart pounding loudly as she started the final work.

"Two things are required for love to be understood, let alone take root." Anya spoke with a low voice, while her trembling fingers kept busy,

"Balance and empathy. Both of these two things are what you lack. Without them, you will never be in a position to love because it will only turn into an ugly obsession. A love that will slowly grow more suffocating than just possessive, confining than protective, filled with jealousy, paranoia and insecurities, slowly leeching out all sweetness until only a twisted sadness remains.

In that toxic obsession, the once pure love slowly distorts to a warped version, where instead of small fights regarding jealousy, murder becomes the logical solution. Where instead of insecurities disappearing with passage of time, more restrictions are placed, where instead of coexisting, intrusion becomes rational. That pure love, dies."

Anya placed the sprig wick along with moonflower and datura on a piece of camphor on the floor of the cauldron.

"Balance naturally happens in someone, which was ruined by your childhood. You only ever felt emotions for me, you understood and perceived desires, need, ambition, related to me. You only ever loved me."

Joon acted oblivious to anything she was saying.

"Having empathy signifies having experienced all emotions. One in particular.

One emotion which is what almost every human can empathise with one another. It is evoked even in the cruellest of people. Incidentally, that is the only emotion you have never felt.

And Joon? It is not betrayal."

Anya stroked the match and lit the camphor, the chants filling the silence.

She paused for a bit, bracing herself on her knees, breathing deeply, trying to manage her rioting emotions. Her voice became reedy.

"What surprises me is that you think I am some paragon of purity and virtue." She whispered, "I am not that. In fact, I am selfish. Too selfish with my happiness. I cant stand pain."

Something in Namjoon stirred at what he heard, something from deep within him making him anxiously alert. A slow beginning of creeping fear.

He opened his eyes and sat up straight, looking at an almost robotic Anya placing a small red clothed bundle in the burning fire of the cauldron, her eyes vacant.

With a shaky breath Anya looked over at him, "Do you want to know what is the emotion you have never experienced? Think for yourself Joonie, if all your emotions were evoked by me, then what is the only one that was never born?"

A buzz filled his ears and Namjoon stood up abruptly. A sinking feeling of sudden and acute desperation started building up, chasing away the numbness of acceptance he had embraced.

Even though he could not follow what she was saying, he knew, it was an answer that he didn't want.

Anya smiled sadly, "Its Loss. . . You have never experienced loss."

On hearing her, Joon's expression changed drastically. That desperation gushed in with crazy panic, filling him completely. "Anya!" Joon walked rapidly towards her, not understanding, yet, knowing.

"This forbidden technique is not an exorcism." Anya turned back and added a few more camphor pieces, "It is a dark act, a deal that can be made with a spirit or a demon in which the caster can make the entity obey her for a wish. The entity will obey all commands regarding that one wish."

Anya added Joon's Handkerchief in the fire amid the chanting. Immediately, the fire turned blue, while the barrier holding Joon became stronger.

"ANYA!!!! STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW!!!!!!"

Joon shouted at her as he banged himself on the barrier.

His mind was in shambles, slashing panic making thinking difficult. He understood with dawning horror just what she wanted to do.

Realized, just how wrong he had been.

Horrific fear captured his entire soul, a voice inside his mind screaming with terror at the error he had made.

He kept banging his shoulders on the barrier like a crazy possessed man, putting all his strength in his shoves, "ANYA!!! STOP IT!! AT ONCE!! LISTEN TO ME!!! MIRAA!!! MIRA STOP HER!!!! STOP HER!!!!!"

Every time he struck the obstacle, part of his strength was lost.

The reflection of the blue fire was lost in the shadows in her eyes. Anya did not pay attention to the frantic shouts and efforts behind her as she kept speaking, "I told you I am selfish Joon. If you leave me behind, wont I be the one left in pain? Why would I do that to myself?"

She laughed brokenly,

"More importantly, how could you ever think that I can hurt you? That I am capable of killing you?"

Real pain assaulted Joon as he tried to break through the barrier, furiously banging his fists on it, madly rushing about for any sign of weakness,

"I'LL LISTEN TO YOU!!! I WILL OBEY WHATEVER YOU SAY!! I WILL CHANGE, I PROMISE!!! JUST STOP!! PLEASE PLEASE STOP!!!"

His shouts fell on deaf ears, "Betray you? Joon, don't you know it by now? Even in drowning death I will smile and accept my fate than betray you."

Joon slid to the floor, still pushing his every bit of energy on breeching the barrier only to have a rebound lash on him.

He flung away from the rebound, crashing on the floor. He scrambled quickly on his knees, again dashing at the obstacle, almost crying with utter fear.

"STOP!!!!"

His screams held an unholy power, making the lights within the barrier to burst out, the sofa to crunch and break into smithereens. His power flowed within the limit, its violence born from chaotic fear shredding everything.

Everything was going horribly wrong!!

His death, the early betrayal was something he would happily take, rather than this!!!

Not this. He could not bear this.

"ANYA!! I AM BEGGING YOU! I AM BEGGING!! PLEASE, IF YOU HAVE EVER LOVED ME IN YOUR LIFE, PLEASE STOP!!! MIRA!!!!!! MIRA!!!! PLEASE!!!!"

Anya reached for the parchment which had the command, the wish she wanted written over it.

"DON'T DROP THAT IN THE FIRE!!! LISTEN TO ME, PLEASE!!" his cries were dripping with soul deep horror, colder than the deepest abyss of hell.

He was terrified, he was helpless, he was utterly scared.

Hopelessly, Joon saw Anya pinch the parchment between her fingers, "Love? I do love you Joon. I love you." Anya said quietly as she let the paper go in the blue fire.

The fire changed colour again, the flames becoming a rich deep scarlet.

"The price of the deal made to the entity is that the entity will suck away the life essence of the caster with physical touch and use it to decrease its stains which allows it to escape from hell or be reborn. A life is paid to be used to a dark entity for any wish that is granted. Thus, its forbidden."

With the knife in hand, Anya stood up and turned, her watery eyes finding Namjoon's gaze filled with unbelievable fear. He was still trying to break through, injuring himself on every rebound, his energy getting drained. But he still did not stop.

"I was the very first person you felt anything for. Your only attachment in life and death has been me. It was because of the feelings you have for me, that those deaths happened. It was for me, that your soul changed after death to stay. I am the reason why you are becoming stained Joon."

"NOOO!!! NO!!! LISTEN!!" Joon fell down on his knees, kneeling over to her, his desperate voice holding extreme panic, "LET ME GO! PLEASE BLUEBERRY! DON'T DO THIS!!"

Gasps of his breath tore into his fragmented mind, the pleas for mercy a constant litany, "Please stop, please stop. Please stop. Oh God please I will never ask for anything else. Please! PLEASE! STOP."

She loved that man.

Dearly, unconditionally. Unequivocally.

Even if she was not physically strong, protecting him was a privilege that Anya cherished.

Always.

Always.

"You need to understand loss Joonie, real loss. Only then will you understand the pain you can inflict on others with your powers. If not balance, I can at least try to make you understand what losing someone means."

Anya whispered as trails of tears finally flowed down her cheeks. Brokenly, she smiled, "What death of a loved one means."

"WHY?????"

Namjoon roared, breaking down in tears as he somehow got up from the floor again and shoved at the barrier. His energy kept draining the more he kept up but nothing could stop him. he needed to go to his foolish Little Fruit.

"WHY ARE YOU PUNISHING ME THIS WAY???? YOU SAID YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF HURTING ME?????"

He fell down again on the floor, his vison becoming spotty, his strength so low that lifting his head became difficult,

"Then what do you think you are doing right now????? What do you think you are doing right now . . ." he choked out.

Crawling towards the edge, Joon leaned on it, again trying to stand, almost slipping and falling.

"Punishing you?" Anya smilingly mused, "Maybe. Punishment is given to make someone understand what is wrong, right?" Anya's eyes brightened as she teased him a little, even though a deep sadness permeated to her very bones, "Then let's think of this as a punishment, okay?"

Essence was taken by the entity via physical contact.

Anya nodded towards the cauldron, "My wish is for you is to take every last bit of my life essence for yourself by making love to me."

It felt like a bolt of thunder had landed on his body, raging fire consuming every single part of him and turning it to ashes in an instant, not even leaving charred dust behind. In an instant, Joon felt himself becoming as barren and empty as a wasteland as his pupils shrank at her words.

In a moment of infinity, it felt as if time froze when his crazed and scared eyes connected to her warm and sad gaze. Him lying on the floor, barely conscious, her standing before him only a handful of steps away.

But that small distance was mercilessly unbreachable, her sad smile this time incomparably cruel, dealing him with an undying, devastating agony that he knew, would forever be embedded in his very soul.

The Dark Ghost breathed out with desolate horror while the human girl dealt him a blow, even destiny was not capable of delivering.

Drop by drop, in a steady trail of broken existence, Joon's tears fell. The hand he had braced on the floor to assist himself in lifting his body, slipped and fell.

He watched the petrifying movement of her lifting the knife to her hand.

"Found you! I see you! And I will make you see me too!" big blue eyes on a small face framed against long unruly tresses and a small body of a child who jumped in front of him.

The beautiful and kind child who had kept her promise and made him see myriad colours with her unrestrained limitless love, was the same beautiful and ruthless woman who extracted every single shade from his life, leaving only a gaping, cold and bottomless black.

"Ah." An involuntary gasp of pain broke through from Joon's throat, as the knife slashed across her hand and drops of blood spilling in the fire, sealing the enchantment.

The chanting stopped, the fire ceased, maybe even the world held a grieving breath.

With vengeance, the forbidden technique took effect, his body experiencing a searing brand leashing his will, imprinting the command of its caster.

The barrier collapsed exactly when his vision started going black.

Still, he kept staring at the girl who did betray him in a way that completely destroyed him. In a manner no creature in the world could.

Anya, his love, who smiled gently while cursing him with a wish, to kill her with his own hands.

"I will never forgive you." His tortured whisper trailed away as he lost consciousness.

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A/N : Soooooo folks. . .

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