prismaticbleed | moralimon prologue draft: justice (Reply)

Massive revisions are going down in Dream World so this old bit of P0′s first draft is no longer canon (this entire scenario does not occur).
I am rather fond of it though, and as a result I’m going to share it with you.

(Justice is walking through JMHQ, thinking about what he’s going to do about Revenge possibly being involved in recent catastrophes. This is around noon, 3 days after Lilianne’s death.)

…Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, rough and fierce, pulling him off his feet. He stumbled slightly as he was forced around, coming face to face with Andrelia.
“Why haven’t you done anything?!” She shouted, her green eyes noticeably bloodshot.
He faltered, unable to reply. “W-what?”
“They can show up again any minute, Justice, and you haven’t done anything to stop them!!” Her voice was tight, her eyes still fixed on his. Justice nervously turned away, scanning the halls for any fellow employees. HQ was panicked enough already… the last thing he needed was more stress on a fragile situation. Plus, he couldn’t tell anyone the entire truth, not yet.
He heard Andrelia take a frustrated breath and quickly faced her once more. “Please, can we talk about this somewhere else?” He begged quietly, not recognizing his own voice. “I don’t want—”
But her hand was on his shoulder again, cutting him off and dragging him behind the broken Cherulai as she proceeded down the hallway. She turned sharply into a nearby room, opening the door and storming in without so much as a warning. Justice felt a sick adrenaline rush as he was pulled in, half-expecting to see an entire committee waiting for him, judging his every thought, but the room was dark and empty. He let out a shuddering breath as Andrelia let go, stepping around him to pull the door shut. Lingering on the handle for a moment, she let out a deep breath and once again faced the guilty Guardian. The dim light from the windows made her look older than he was.
“…I haven’t slept in three days, Justice,” she began. Her voice, which had just been ringing in his ears, was now unsettlingly resigned.
“I understand.” It sounded canned, despite its sincerity, but he didn’t know what else to say. What could he say?
But Andrelia shook her head, cutting off his thoughts, driving the guilt in further. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.” She looked down then, her eyes hard. “…Because whenever they come back, only one of us is going to make it out alive.”
Justice felt his breath hitch involuntarily, his chest freezing in fear, and Andrelia’s eyes flickered back up to him.
“You… you can’t say that,” he began weakly, trying to hide his fear for them both. His words were running on automatic now. “You can’t just give yourself up like that. There’s still so much for you to live for–”
“I have NOTHING left to live for, Justice!!” Her voice finally broke, as did what little confidence he had left. I can’t do this, he thought, watching her fall apart in the dusty light, as his own heart threatened to follow suit. I can’t do this.
Andrelia was silent, unaware of his peril, her own thoughts elsewhere.
“She was everything to me.” Tears shone in her eyes. “She was everything. I loved her.” She looked up, her face wet. “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And now I can’t.” Her shoulders shook, but Justice turned away. “I loved her so much, but I can never see her again, and I can’t live like this. I’ve lost everything.” She shook her head again, choking back sobs. “I can’t do it.”
The Guardian didn’t move. He was hearing his own words in her voice. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t focus. This was about her, this was about the one she adored and lost; this wasn’t about him, except…
Except it was. Except the one he adored and lost was now guilty until proven innocent, and too much blood had already been spilled. Justice couldn’t bear the thought of a single drop more.
“…So what are you going to do?” He asked her, almost inaudible even in the empty room.
“I think the better question is what are you going to do?” Andrelia moved towards him, forcing him to meet her eyes once more. “No matter what I want, you’re the Guardian. You call the shots. I can scream and cry all I want for this killer to be brought to justice–” the word was an arrow to his heart, expertly shot– “but you’re the one who has to deal it out. You’re the one they’re all going to look to for a final decision. Not me.”
He raised his eyes to meet hers then, green and angry and heartbroken and tired. He felt an awful, deep empathy for her, a sort of contrition for his own self. He tried to speak but couldn’t.
“So what are you going to do?” Andrelia repeated his question, grave and demanding.
“…I don’t know.”
“Don’t give me that!!” she exploded. “You’ve been saying that since this happened! You KNOW what you have to do, and that is to find whoever did this, and make them pay.”
Justice was silent. Andrelia’s bitter words were ringing in his ears, caustic and tinged with a hate that was both terrifying and totally alien in her mouth. Yet it was there now, however she had reached this point, and he knew she meant every syllable. Really, could he blame her? She wanted justice, after all, he thought with no small share of self-disgust. She wanted him to do his job, to actually make the right decision for once. Isn’t that what this was? Justice?
Except… no. It wasn’t. The young Prophet swallowed hard then, his heart faltering in his chest. Andrelia wanted something else… something he couldn’t give. This wasn’t his role.
“…You want vengeance,” Justice said quietly, and the realization was like a bloody sun on the horizon.
Andrelia paused, her mouth a hard line, her eyes still wet.
“…Maybe I do,” she admitted at last.
Justice said nothing for a moment.
To hell with caution, he decided, and when he spoke next the words carried every ounce of the agony in his heart.
“So do I.”

He turned and left without a word, swinging his whole weight on the door handle as if it could offer him respite for even a moment, his steps practically a march as he forced himself to remain composed. He was getting too good at choking back tears. One day they’ll overflow on me, he thought bitterly as he rounded a corner and still refused to let his face admit the truth. One day I won’t be able to hold them in anymore, and it will serve me right. That will be true justice, Andrelia. I can promise you, I won’t escape from my own sins. I’ve tried, but it’s too late for that now.
He reached an outside door and swung it open before he could change his mind.
I’ll pay the price for what I’ve abandoned.