"You know, I don't really like summer time"
He couldn't agree more, despite the fact she'd told him that a countless number of times. He was getting absolutely sick of the heat bearing on them, adding to the discomfort and otherworldly nature of what was happening to them. If only it all would end, to be free was something he craved, but he was exhausted. There was only so much longer he could go on, only so many tries before he gave up on everything entirely.
They were sitting in a park on a pair of swings. Him and Lucy on what seemed to be a peaceful day. She'd found a cat on the walk over and it was on her lap. He'd mentally cursed the demonic thing. He didn't think he could hate anything more than this blasted feline. But convincing her to shoo it away hadn't changed anything, so he was resigned to its presence.
From the outside it would seem like a normal day. But he knew that soon, without his intervention, that cat was going to suddenly run away. She was going to playfully chase it, right onto the road. Right in the path of a-
"Are you ok?"
Ah, he was glaring at the ground, his intense hatred of the situation, his despair, showing blatantly on his face. He was in misery, but he tried his best to force a smile. It was broken, but telling her also did nothing. She never believed him. He'd tried too many times, begging her. She never listened.
"I'm fine. Just thinking about what you said. I hate the summer too"
If he ever escaped this endless heat and haze, he was becoming a winter man. Sleep through August and come alive when it gets colder. He'd take her out in the snow and they could finally laugh together without fear.
"Huh, I'd have thought you were a summer person"
"You'd think..."
He was a summer guy, in what felt like an age ago, long before all this death and hopelessness. She was going to die, the day was going to reset and she was going to die again. Her life constantly slipped through his fingers and he was starting to lose any belief that he'd save her. So it was hard to still like this blasted heat. No matter what direction he pulled her away from the park, tragedy struck. He was assaulted by images of his failure. Her lying in a pool of her own blood after falling down the stairs. Skewered in half by a wayward construction pole. She'd be attacked, strangled or stabbed, before he could call for help or do anything. Just see her lifeless body falling limp.
If he didn't go, he'd see it on the news. That she'd been caught up in a tragic accident, or horrific murder, that claimed her life. If he called her to say he wasn't leaving so she shouldn't either. He'd receive a call back from her crying and distraught family saying she'd-
Hanged herself. Overdosed. Slit her own throat with scissors.
There was no escape. She'd apparently be suddenly filled with despair and the wish to take her own life. It was hopeless, nothing worked. At least this way he got to talk to her, he supposed. Perhaps it was willingly torturing himself, but he couldn't do that to her. Just lay in bed for all eternity as she consistently killed herself. This strange loop guaranteed her death. They'd been trapped in it so long he'd given up trying to count the cycles, it felt like years though. He was getting so tired, so exhausted and also increasingly guilty. He wasn't the one going through the pain of dying every loop, but she also didn't seem to remember it either. It was up to him to bear this burden, to find a way out for the both of them. But he was slowly giving up, slowly letting go of her and it was eating him up inside. He can't give up on her, he just can't. But he was running out of steam, his heart running on empty as the endless cycles drained him completely of emotion. Perhaps he'd just die of an empty heart soon enough, was that possible? It felt like he was going to find out.
As he mindlessly got off the swings to follow her, the cat lept out of her arms. He watched it, feeling numb and tired. This was the countdown to doom. Lucy laughed, usually a joyous sound, and moved to chase after it. She was going to run towards death, with nothing-
Why did she have to be the one to die?
A new thought, completely unprompted, snuck into his mind. If one of them had to die, why did it have to be her? Did it even have to be? It was something he'd never tried before, would it free her at least? He'd do anything, anything to free her from this hell.
He looked forward, she was almost on the road, and pushed himself into a run. Adrenaline pumped through him as he quickly closed the distance between them. There was no fear, only her, only her life swinging precariously in the balance. He could do this, for once in his miserable existence, he could be her hero. He could save her. He reached out for her, he could hear the blaring horn in the distance, egging him on to hurry. His fingers finally grasped the back of her shirt and he victoriously pulled her back, before leaping out into the road. Taking her place in this twisted fate.
The truck slammed into him and he could think of nothing before the waves of increasing pain. He rolled across the ground helplessly, before stopping, bones broken and staring up at her. She was crying, screaming at him, questioning why he had thrown away his life for her. But she was alive, so blessedly alive. Even as he felt his life drain from his body and pool on the floor, his every nerve screeching in agony, he couldn't stop the smile slowly dragging onto his face. She could be free now, she didn't have to die anymore. The world around him blurred, became more muted as he let go of everything. His eyes slowly closed shut and he fell into a deep chasm of satisfaction and hope.
Lucy Heartfilia slowly pulled herself up from her bed. Tears poured freely down her cheeks as sorrow and grief stabbed her heart relentlessly. She'd just watch her best friend jump in front of a truck for her, with nothing she could do to stop it. She thought she'd been fast enough this time, that he hadn't noticed she was in danger. He was always protecting her, always saving her and always dying. She should have been quick enough on her feet this time and yet-
"I failed him again, didn't I?"
Her tears poured down onto a cat on her lap, looking confused and unsure of how to help its owner. She curled in on herself around it, unable to contain her despair. She wailed as once more it seemed she'd never save him, no matter how hard she planned. He'd be stuck forever in this loop of always being her hero, of always suffering for her. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right.
Why did he always have to be the one to die?
