The soft colors of the cherry blossom soothe his constricted chest as it sways with the gentle breeze. He reaches his hand, hoping to grasp its beautiful petals and preserve them forever. He blinks, only to see a young girl whose skin is as white as pristine snow, smiling softly at his direction like a shining star to the pitch-black rainy sky. His mouth moves on its own as he tries to reason with her, crimson teary eyes meet with dilated chocolate ones one last time.

  He shouldn't have broken up with her.

  Why on earth did he do that?

  It was such a dumb and stupid decision!

  It feels like watching the world’s weirdest slideshow as he sits back and sees all the unfamiliar yet nostalgic overlapping images and videos flashing before him, holding his throbbing forehead internally as he continues to watch.

  The last remaining petals finally fall on what is left of her beauty, trying to run towards her with an outstretched hand. But it's too late as he stares at the asphalt down below, splattered with crimson blood as her empty eyes stare in his direction, no longer responding as he tries to call out to her.

  She never will, now that the last thread that's been wrapping around her with tender care has been severed by none other than his own dirty hands.

  Their lives are spared (for now) but at what cost?

  They may have won the battle, but is it worth losing the war?

  He may have been ignoring it all this time, locking it into the depths of his mind trying to forget, but the memories of the dead will never be erased.

  No matter what.

  "Yuki, nooo!" Scar jolts violently as he frantically sits up, stretching his hand in front of him as he wheezes.

  Scar's eyes dart from one thing to another, currently trying to process his situation. He's in his Lanbo with Tango, waiting for daytime to come in order to watch their feathery friend being at the end side of the prank this time.

  "Are you okay, Scar?"

  He squeals at the sudden voice calling out his name, snapping his head to the side and sees Tango furrowing his brows in concern.

  "Tango! You can't just scare a man like that. I almost peed on my bed despite my age." Scar holds a trembling hand to his drumming chest as he sighs. "Jeez!"

  "Oops! Sorry about that, man. Were you having a nightmare or something? You were looking a bit pale when you were tossing and turning in your sleep." Tango rubs the back of his neck as he guesses.

  Scar's eyes blow wide and flinch in surprise, epiphany currently overtaking his buzzing brain over the fact that he just recovered his lost memories before he met Cub and the others. The butterflies in his stomach increase as he remembers all the blood, the bodies, all the gaslighting and mistreatment towards the person he's supposed to care about yet all he did was anything but.

  "I-I'm fine, Tango. Thank you." Scar mutters a reply as he bites his lower lip to draw blood and punish himself.

  He can understand if he was doing some mischievous things to prank his friend back then since that's what high school was all about, but not downright torture of all things!

  "We should probably check Grian to see if he's already found the prank. He should've woken up hours ago considering how the sun is already high up in the sky." Scar addresses promptly as he throws the blanket aside, grabbing his cane beside his bed while he stands.

  "Oh, shoot! I completely forgot!" Tango's hair bursts into a burning flame for a split second before frantically leaving the comforts of the mattress on the floor as he wears his shoes and follows suit.

  Scar huffs and puffs as he traverses the land towards Grian's house, only stopping by the front door as he plants his hands to his knees to catch his breath.

  "Uh, do you hear that?" Tango plants his fists to his sides as he heaves for breath beside Scar while turning his head around in question.

  Scar stands at full height with the cane's help as he strains his hearing, jumping in surprise as he listens to the obnoxious vwooping of an active Nether portal. He looks over yonder with furrowed brows, seeing the obsidian rectangle by the distance where it's always been. But how come they can hear it clearly, though?

  "I think I can hear it from inside the house." Tango muses and suddenly goes pale in a split second. "Oh, no."

  As if a button has been switched on, Scar's body moves on its own as he barges in Grian's house, now hearing the vwooping noise louder than before and swallowing the lump in his throat with difficulty. He runs to the lever and pulls it down to open the iron door and enters, stopping by the entrance to see the purple particles flying in the air but no Grian.

  He slowly walks around to observe his surroundings and shudders tremendously at the sight of the place, spotting blood stains everywhere accompanied with ripped feathers and scratches on the walls like he's inside a serial killer or horror movie. He slams a hand to his mouth as he begins to gag at the horrid scene, barely standing on his quivering feet as he sees Tango going to the portal.

  "Let's go!" Tango yells to overtake the portal's sound.

  "Ta- Wha—"

  "Grian must've escaped through the Nether with literally nothing on him. He might be being attacked by the hostile mobs as we speak. Now, let's go!" Tango intercepts as he explains with mach speed.

  Scar follows suit and not a second later, the raven surroundings of the obsidian box are quickly changed into the scorching terrains of the Nether. Since he knows the place the most, Tango leads the way in order to avoid the potential dangers and unnecessary fighting as they keep a sharp eye on a huge pair of iridescent wings amongst the red and orange.

  A few hours must've passed or it's only been a couple of minutes since they entered, but there's still no sightings of Grian, causing Scar's anxiety to skyrocket in every wasted second and the possibility of losing his friend forever without even having to apologize. When all hope is almost lost, he yells on top of his lungs once he finds a trail of feathers being coated with blood, following after them without hesitation, not waiting for Tango's reaction.

  At the end of the trail is a familiar Nether portal, the one that he and the Boatem crew constantly use whenever they want to gather materials. But why? He shakes his head vigorously before sprinting towards it and enters. That's not important right now. It's more important to make sure that Grian is safe.

  It's the least he can do for being a horrible friend to him after all these years, after all.

  Scar stumbles forward as he returns to the Overworld, regaining his bearing with the cane's help and looks around for red feathers and strawberry blonde hair.

  There!

  Grian, who's still in his t-shirt and pajamas, has been swaying left to right as he embraces himself with quivering hands, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. Scar calls out to him in worry as he runs towards him, only for Grian to jolt violently and stare at Scar's direction like a deer in the headlights. Before he realizes, Grian is frantically flying away from him further towards the north.

  "Grian, wait! I need to talk to you!" Scar yells in desperation, already pulling out his elytra and hastily straps it around himself before propelling himself in the air with the rockets.

  All Scar can see ahead is the pristine white snow that surrounds the terrain, shuddering at the cold crawling through his bare skin as he fires more and more rockets in hopes of catching up to Grian. Seriously, why is that guy so fast at flying and with plucked feathers, no less? Suddenly, the wind is rushing in his face before he realizes that he's starting to fall fall fall fall fall—

  He's going to die!

  The snow is getting closer as he plummets to his death, screaming on top of his lungs as he waits for the inevitable. The thought occurs like a slap to the face and brings forth the magic all throughout his body, stopping the rush of death barely as the ground and his face are only a few inches apart. He releases the breath he's unknowingly holding and falls flat to the snow with a thud.

  Scar huffs and puffs misty breaths as he's been traversing the freezing land with still no Grian in sight. His vision begins to black out here and there as his chattering teeth get louder. He lost his cane during the fall, so he's only managed to walk this far with his magic. The snow is getting heavier but he won't turn back now that he's gotten this far. For a moment, he thinks he saw something from his peripheral vision. He squints his freezing eyelids for a better view and...

  There!

  The blood trail and footprints are almost completely covered by the fresh fallen snow but luckily, he finds them at a perfect time. He doesn't waste time sprinting as hard as he can as a grin stretches across his face despite his cracked lips burning with pain.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He doesn't care.

  He's finally reached his destination!

  Scar enters the mouth of the cave and leans on the way once his numb feet are finally giving up on him, gasping for air despite the cold pricking his lungs.

  His blurry eyes observe the small area, noticing how it’s slightly warmer and brighter. That’s when he spots them, old-looking torches lining up on the ground like a trail of breadcrumbs as they light the way in this surface cave. He uses the wall as support as he gradually makes his way down, using the torches as guide in hopes of seeing Grian at the end of it. It’s as if the heavens have finally answered his call once he spots disheveled wings wrapping itself towards something like a cocoon, noting how it’s quivering violently while shrinking to a corner.

  “Grian?” Scar calls in a raspy voice as he goes into a coughing session with how dry his throat is.

  Grian jolts violently in response as he shrinks further into the walls like he’ll fused with it. The area is deathly silent apart from the chattering of teeth, cracking of burning torches, and the whistling wind from outside, making Scar think Grian isn’t going to reply, so he decides to open his mouth to speak. But a grating sound stops him from doing so, letting him know it isn’t the case.

  “Go away, Sa- Scar.” Grian mutters barely from all the chattering and trembling.

  “I—Everyone is worried about you, G. You can’t just run away to the tundra like that. It will ruin your health and risk losing a finger or two with hypothermia, especially in your poor condition—” Scar begins to ignore that as he tries to lighten the mood with a conversation.

  “Stop.”

  “—Those thin clothes won’t do if you want to stay warm. Uh, here!” He ignores how Grian intercepts as he continues, starting to remove his red coat as he steps closer. “You can take my coat since you’re probably freezing to death considering you’ve been here for hours, maybe.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “This is no time to be stubborn and difficult, Grian.” Scar furrows his brows as he leans the thick clothing towards Grian’s back.

  “I said ‘I don’t need it!’” Grian yells as he bolts upright and slaps Scar’s hands away with his own, letting the coat drop on the ground with a plop.

  Grian suddenly flinches and stands stiff in place as he stares wide in Scar’s direction, staying quiet as a fish apart from his bated breath.

  “G-Grian? Are you okay?” Scar hesitantly stresses despite knowing the answer.

  “Why do you care?” Grian’s voice wavers as he wrings his hands and takes a step back.

  “Because I’m your friend?” Scar swallows the lump in his throat and places a hand to his chest as he steps forward. “Look, I’m really sorry if the prank really upsets you, but we really need to go back if we don’t want to be turned into human-sized popsicles in this weather.” He sighs as he straightens his posture and explains calmly.

  “You’re just blaming me for running away from the prank that you did?” Grian scoffs and sneers as he curls his fingers into fists.

  “What? That’s- Don’t put words in my mouth! All I’m saying is that you should take care of yourself more.” Scar furrows his brows as his eyes begin to narrow.

  “Oh! You’re gonna say I’m crazy now, huh?” Grian grits his teeth and flares his ruffled wings as he jabs a thumb to his chest.

  “What are you talking about? That’s the opposite of what I said!” Scar stumps his foot forward as he clenches his fists to the side, tight enough for his nails to dig deep on his palms.

  Why is Grian suddenly saying weird things that don't make sense? Scar isn’t sure why, but it makes the bile in his stomach boil as the adrenaline begins to rush all over his body in anger. He doesn’t understand. Why is he doing this when all he wants is to help? Does he want to freeze to death or something?

  “Oh, come off it!” Grian rolls his eyes as he snaps. “That’s what you always do every time you try to manipulate me!”

  “M-Manipulate? Grian, are you listening to yourself right now? Why do I want to manipulate my friend?” Scar yells as he repeatedly ruffles his own hair in annoyance before throwing it to his side.

  “Ooh, I don’t know. To let me dance in the palm of your hands, so I will always do your bidding!” Grian spats. “Stop pretending when I already know your game, Sam!”

  Everything suddenly stops as if time has frozen along with the tundra and themselves, Scar’s eyes widen in surprise and epiphany as to why Grian is suddenly acting strange.

  Him.

  It’s all him from the start.

  Scar has always been the obstacle that causes all sorts of pain to Grian when they’re supposed to be friends. His distant attitude back when he first joined Hermitcraft suddenly makes sense, now that he realizes it. After all the pain and torture that he’s been through because of Scar in the past, Grian is afraid to place his trust towards others, scared of going through it again and shy away protect himself.

  Back when Scar noticed the scars once when Grian had to change attire after getting sick for overworking himself with building his mansion, he didn’t question the lines littering his skin as anything but self-harm. To cope with all the horrible things Scar had done to him. The signs were always there in plain sight, but he never noticed it or if he did, he only ignored it.

  The bottle Grian surrendered to the teachers before, the scar on his forehead during the bus crash, the knife wounds on his arms apart from the rows of lines on his wrists during that unfair fight with Pie Lord, a few gunshot wounds from the yakuza shootout, the knife wounds on the face and throat that Scar himself inflicted when he threatened him with a knife to make him do his bidding, the way he flinched every time there’s a white rabbit or someone screamed at him no matter the reason, his fear of small spaces, and the way he’s too overprepared when there’s a battle involved were all caused by Sam.

  They’re different in many ways but unfortunately, they’re two sides of the same coin.

  Even if he didn’t cause it directly, he brought the situation into fruition that would cause harm on his beloved friends and never thought about the consequences. As long as he entertained himself, he never cared about anyone that might be hurt around him.

  Scar is snapped out of his rushing thoughts as he hears Grian’s voice shrieking and jumps hastily to the side when something pounces on him, only to see Grian crouching on the floor and stabbing a knife where he used to be.

  The blizzard howls stronger as Grian tightens his grip around the handle of Ellen’s old knife that he’s been maintaining, pulling it out of the ground as he releases erratic breaths and barely stands back on weak legs. His insides are pinpricked by millions of needles and being burned alive at the same time, wincing here and there as the pain increases tenfold even at the slightest movement.

  Not anymore!

  He won't submit to Sam, not this time!

  He's sick and tired of having to look out for his unpredictable mood swings and had to tiptoe at every single second of his life, hoping but failing terribly of keeping his anger at bay either way.

  "Grian. Please calm down and why don't you drop that dangerous weapon, so we can sit and talk?" Sa- Scar holds out his hands ahead of him in a placating manner.

  What is he planning now?

  Grian thinks of all the possible things Sam might be planning as he vigilantly approaches him. This is probably a ruse to let him lower his guard, so Sam can pounce on him at any second when he least expects it.

  Sca- Sam slowly steps forward like he's approaching a scared and weak animal (or a predator hunting its prey in this man's case), causing every cell in Grian's cell to rush as he jumps back in reflex with a scowl.

  He knew it!

  "There- There are b-better ways to settle this than bloodshed, my friend. I'm sure you know this, right?" Sam smiles as he casually lies.

  Grian is so used to his lies already that it's starting to get more irritating as this man continues to weave dishonesty, so he grits his chattering teeth so much they might shatter at the sheer force as he raises the knife and pounces towards his target, ending his decade-long suffering and fear once and for all.

  Unfortunately, Sam easily dodges his swift attack and runs away, Grian groans in annoyance as he chases after him.

  Scar yelps as the knife barely manages to scrape him at almost every swing, panic rising from his heavy stomach as Grian's bloodshot eyes are burning like a laser at the back of his head that's filled with nothing but bloodlust. Why is he going full-on serial killer on him when his body must be seconds from collapsing right now? He should find a way to convince Grian in order for him to stop asserting his remaining strength and conserve it instead.

  But how?

  "Sam, come back here! I'm sure you're scheming again but it won't work!" Grian's grating voice yells behind Scar while he's dodging and weaving for his life, the misty breath obscuring his vision as he huffs and puffs desperately for air while his lungs are burning in pain. "We have known each other for ten years, after all!"

  Honestly, Grian's actions are currently justified considering how much torment Scar had brought to him, but the fact that hearing him being called 'Sam' sends a pang in his drumming chest remains. He's aware of the horrible things he did before, but it's still weird being blamed for it when he never wanted to do those things in the first place.

  Yet it still happened anyway.

  "Why does this have to happen to me?"

  Scar snaps out of his distracting thoughts with a flinch as hears a voice sobbing that's barely audible from the howling winds and chattering teeth. He looks back over his shoulder, only to see Grian leaning on the wall as he marches with glassy eyes due to unshed tears.

  "When will this decade-long suffering gonna last?" Grian wipes the tears with his arm as quickly as it came, causing Scar's heart to skip a beat and bites his cracked lower lip. "I'm so tired."

  He hates how Grian looks so small than he already is in every painful second he sees him, finally stopping in his tracks as he blames being cornered to a wall and his numb legs to give up running for his life. After all the horrible things Sam did to him, it's only fair for Scar to pay the price, right? He turns to face Grian and leans his wheezing back towards the wall to rest, waiting for Grian to arrive.

  Once Scar sees those sharp dull eyes, it reminds him of an identical scene unfolding before him. When Grian got out of their basement after Taurtis answered his plea for help and set him free, he didn't hesitate to pounce on Sam as he declared to kill him. If he remembered correctly, Sam trapped Grian there and dressed him up for Star Wars day as he planned to let him out eventually, but Scar doubts that's true.

  Grian stops in his tracks when he sees Sa- Scar standing to his full height with a smug smirk, approaching the unpredictable with cautious steps.

  "Wh-What are you doing?" Grian falters as he drags his feet against the rough surface with a frown.

  The bile in his stomach begins to rise as apprehension latches onto the back of his exhausted and shivering body, anticipating for Scar's next move as he readies the knife with a firm grip.

  "I know you always wanted to slice my throat in half and bathe in my own crimson blood. But you were just so naive back then and couldn't dirty your hands, hoping that everything would go back the way they were." Scar starts abruptly as he huffs and puts a hand on his hip, tilting his head to the side for good measure.

  Grian stares at Scar's body language that screams confidence as he scrunches his nose and narrows his eyes in confusion.

  "Sa- What are you—"

  "Well, guess what?" Scar intercepts as he grins ear to ear. "This is reality, you idiot." Grian jolts as his puffy and freezing eyes blow wide in surprise. "This isn't some fairytale where you can wish on a fairy godmother to make your childish dreams come true." He crosses his arms as he shakes his head in disappointment.

  The fists on Grian's side are shaking at how tight he's curling them as he seethes.

  "Come off it and get to the point alrea—"

  "You have to do it yourself like how I stabbed anyone who would get in my way. You're familiar with that, right? After all, you're always at the end of my blade."

  Grian's eye twitches as the burning magma inside his body boils, threatening to burst out at any moment as he tries to stand in place and not wipe the smug look on Sam's face right here and there.

  "If I can do it, why can't you, huh? Huh?! Do it! Kill me! I dare you, you stupid chicken!" Scar throws his arms to the sides and spreads them as his eyes glint and laughs maniacally.

  Everything blurs once Grian finally gives in to his anger, only processing a few information like his burning palm as he holds the grip of the knife like a lifeline, or how quickly his numb body moves surprisingly well despite the strength slipping away from his fingertips as fatigue and sleep take over, or how easily he raises the weapon above his head and strikes it to Sam's direction.