"Our Final Song"
[a/n] : listen to ma meilleure ennemie while reading this to cry more ;')
The soft hum of "Ma Meilleure Ennemie" filled the small room, looping endlessly, weaving itself into the fabric of the night. It was their song, the one that had accidentally played the night they first danced, awkward and laughing, under flickering string lights. Now, it played again not as a backdrop to laughter, but as a companion to a goodbye they both knew was coming.
Ekko sat cross legged on the floor, his Z-Drive dismantled beside him. He didn’t need it tonight. Tonight was for her. She leaned against the far wall, her silhouette bathed in the dim light of the desk lamp. She looked fragile, as though the slightest gust of wind could carry her away. But her smile, soft and knowing, was as solid as it had always been.
“It’s a weird song to love, don’t you think?” she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet but steady, as if she hadn’t just been crying moments ago.
Ekko glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s weird because you love it, and you’re weird.”
She laughed soft, barely there, but still enough to make his heart twist. “Says the guy who rewinds time for fun.”
He leaned back on his hands, tilting his head as he watched her. “You’re not gonna let me win this one, are you?”
“Never,” she teased. Then, more gently, “That’s what made us work, though. You challenge everything, and I challenge you.”
He turned his gaze to the Z-Drive. It lay lifeless now, the device that had once given him endless chances. But tonight, there was no rewinding. No second try. This was their moment, fleeting and final, and he wouldn’t waste it.
----
The song played on, its melancholic melody carrying them through their memories.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.
Ekko smirked. “You mean when you tried to spray-paint over my work?”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her amusement. “It was awful. A galaxy? Really?”
“It was art, thank you very much,” he shot back, feigning offense. “And if I remember correctly, someone decided to fix it by painting stars that looked like fried eggs.”
“They were stars,” she argued, laughing now. “But sure, let’s go with fried eggs.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I let you win that argument, too.”
She softened, her gaze meeting his. “No, Ekko. You didn’t let me win. You let me stay. That’s different.”
-----
The song looped again, filling the spaces between words, carrying them to the quieter, heavier memories.
“Do you regret it?” she asked after a long silence. Her voice was small, almost afraid.
He looked at her sharply. “Regret what?”
“Us. This. Loving me.”
His heart twisted. He stood, crossing the room to sit beside her. “Never,” he said firmly. “Not for a second.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, and for a moment, they sat like that, the song wrapping around them like a fragile cocoon.
“I regret the fights,” she murmured. “The times I pushed you too hard. The times I didn’t say what I really felt.”
“You pushed me because you believed in me,” he said softly. “And that’s what I’ll remember. Not the fights. Not the regrets. Just... you.”
-----
The night wore on, their voices growing softer, their silences longer. The weight of the inevitable hung heavy between them, but neither dared to say it aloud. Not yet.
As the final notes of the song played for the hundredth time, she reached for his hand. Her fingers, once so steady, trembled against his. “Ekko,” she whispered, “promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t stop living when I’m gone.”
His throat tightened, and he couldn’t speak. She turned to look at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears but full of determination. “You have so much left to do. So much left to give. Don’t let this, don’t let me be the end of you.”
He swallowed hard, nodding. “I promise,” he choked out.
She smiled, leaning her head against his chest as the song began to play again. “Good,” she whispered.
------
When the last notes of the song finally faded, so did she. Her warmth, her weight, her presence all of it slipped away like a fading dream.
Ekko sat there, the silence pressing in around him, his arms empty but his heart full of the love they had shared. The room felt colder, but he didn’t move. He let the quiet settle, let the memory of her linger a little longer.
His gaze drifted to the Z-Drive lying beside him, its cracked surface catching the faint glow of dawn breaking through the window. Gently, almost reverently, he picked it up, his fingers brushing over the fractured casing.
“One rewind,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Just one.”
He pressed the button, the device sputtering weakly before flickering out completely. It was useless, broken when he needed it most. Time, it seemed, had made its choice.
Ekko clenched the Z-Drive tightly, his knuckles whitening as tears streaked silently down his face. “Why?” he rasped into the empty room. “Why give me this power if I can’t save her?”
The question hung in the air, unanswered.
And yet, deep down, he knew. She wouldn’t have wanted him to rewrite this to steal away the love and the pain that made their final night together real. As much as it hurt, it was theirs. Untouchable. Unchangeable.
The song looped faintly in his mind, the melody carved into his soul. He sat there, the dawn spilling light across the room, his heart breaking but alive with the echoes of her.
“Thank you for loving me,” he whispered again, the Z-Drive slipping from his grasp and clattering softly to the floor.
It wasn’t the ending he wanted, but it was theirs. And in all its beauty and pain, that would have to be enough.
--------
