"Crying again, Battler?"

Fuck, she was. She hadn't actually realized it, or the hunched over way she was sitting, covering the book and hugging her knees. Pulling herself upright again almost aches.

Beato stands in front of her, smirking. Her tone is teasing, but there's a lack of sharpness in her expression. She's not mocking her, even as she says, "Don't tell me. Everything is useless, just all useless?"

Battler reaches a hand to wipe back some of the tears still streaming down her cheeks. She can feel the smile, wide and toothy, stretch across her own face. The words tumble out in blue almost without her meaning them. "The opposite. I finally figured it out. Let's talk."

Beato is admittedly intruiged by Battler's use of the blue truth. Finally figured it out, she says. A suspicion, one she tries to quell because it feels too similar to hope, rises in Beato's chest.

"Okay," she says, dragging it out. "I know just the place." And with a wave golden butterflies, she takes them into the meta once more. Beato didn't expect to be back here after waking up on this sinking ship, but it wasn't the first time Battler has surprised her.

The world inverts and shifts around the pair. A warm that only comes from the release of mortal plane obligations spreads through Beato's limbs. Muscles she didn't realize could tense loosen. Everything is brought into a dreamy focus. Here, there is no constant weight pressing down on her. She rules this domain unlike any other.

"What have you discovered this time, Battler?"

Battler stands up a little straighter. Every time they come here, the initial disorientation is subtler, lighter, but shifting from sitting down on a ship to standing in the vast plane of nothingness still catches her a little off guard. It occurs to her that this place feels safer, more solid, than the ship, and maybe not just because of her fear of boats.

She takes a deep breath and meets Beato's eyes. Suddenly, her throat feels dry and chest feels tight. Being wrong here doesn't really hurt her; she's done it plenty. But even so, there's a newfound anxiety at the thought.

She could walk Beato through her reasoning, treat this like a parlor scene in one of her favorite novels, build up to the point she's making. But if she's wrong, she has to know, and if she's right, she can't let this go unsaid any longer. So Battler dives straight in.

"The who- and the why- dunnits. I still don't know all your tricks, the hows. You've got to have accomplices; probably different ones every game. We can play through that part on Rokkenjima. But I do know the culprit. In our four gameboards, the mastermind of the crime is the true heir — well, heiress — to Kinzo's fortune, the true Head, and… the granddaughter of the woman who gave Kinzo ten tons of gold."

It's not unusual for Battler to think she's solved something, but an uneeded breath still catches in Beato's throat when she starts her blue truth with something Beato won't have to deny.

There's no way of knowing the straw that broke the most stubborn camel's back—not until Battler is done with her tirade, so Beato doesn't bother prolonging her confirmation. Pieces of the mystery that is her life have started falling from Battler's lips like dominoes. She will not disrupt the click of a line completed.

"Your theory is correct." She'll probably make Beato repeat the entire thing back in red because Battler is nothing if not ornery, but right now all Beato can think about are whatever words will drop next. Has she really done it this time?

Battler feels her shoulders unexpectedly relax, even as a pit in her stomach grows tighter. Has Beato ever given such a blank check of a confirmation before? She feels like she should needle, prod, have each piece said in red individually, but she can't think of any tricks Beato is hiding behind that answer.

Worse, she might not be hiding any. Battler doesn't want to be right about this next part, doesn't even want to say it. But if Beato wants to be understood, to be seen, then it won't do her any good for Battler to be scared away by the gory details. Battler steels herself, closing her eyes half in concentration and half to avoid Beato's expression. "The culprit is the daughter of Kinzo and the Beatrice kept in Kuwadorian, who was herself the daughter of Kinzo and the Beatrice who gave him the ten tons of gold. Following her mother's death, this girl was raised in the Fukuin house and kept close to the Ushiromiya family as a servant."

Battler opens her eyes, forcing herself to meet Beato's. This next part is the most important, and she won't look away for it."This girl, is, of course, the body you belong to. The body you share with Shannon and Kanon."

Even here, where time is as much under her control as how many breaths she takes, Battler's words seem to freeze the world around them. Air isn't a factor in the Meta, but Beato still loses what was left in her chest.

The fucking bastard did it, she thinks. All it took was another sadistic game master and she did it.

For once, the red truth feels like honey on her tongue. "Yes," she says, voice nearly trembling. The enigmatic Golden Witch Beatrice feels far away, a crying abused girl left standing tall in her place. "I am the daughter of Kinzo and Kuwadorian Beatrice. I was raised in Fukuin House. I share a body with Shannon and Kanon." A strange grin overtakes her features. Not even a witch could make sense of the feelings tangled up inside of her in this moment. "You found the culprit. You found me."

In spite of herself, and in spite of the tears threatening to well up in her eyes, Battler smiles back. She's sure her own grin is no less shaky. She steps forward, towards Beato, towards Sayo, the both of them and then some, really, half-stumbling on her feet.

She spent so many gameboards convinced that if she found the culprit, she'd want to kill them. To take revenge, to make them pay. The games themselves were a means to do so, to destroy the witch. This realization washed all of that away, and now, having the truth confirmed leaves only grief and regret in its wake. Staring at Beato, all Battler wants to do is finish closing the distance and pull her close. Her chest burns with the impulse to hold her.

But there's one more thing to say first. "This is why you were so hurt by my sin, even though we hadn't met yet. My sin was not against you, but someone you're part of. It was promising to take Sayo away from Rokkenjima, and then leaving her behind." Battler feels her voice wavering, each syllable a little harder, bringing the tears closer to the forefront. "I'd say this next part in red if I could, but I can't, so you're just going to have to trust me. I'm sorry. I am so fucking sorry."

Despite the circumstances, she can't help but giggle at the devastation in Battler's voice. After this, after the look of understanding in her eyes, after the feeling of Battler's hand in hers, she knows. "You're sorry." She says, a neatly wrapped bow.

"You understand your sin," the words feel almost too simple compared to the road to get to them. "You understand everything now." And what a miracle that is.

Beato leans in impossibly closer, pressing herself up against Battler like penguins against the tundra. She suddenly feels like a waddling thing, her limbs strange in ways they never are here. She spent so much effort shouting at Battler, but now that she's been heard, she's not sure what she's supposed to do with herself. The typical confidence of Beatrice doesn't quite match their softly-spoken words.

The trust in those words, in the repetition she didn't even ask for, is enough to burst the dam. Battler manages one soft, shaky laugh before her throat catches and the sound gives way to tears. When Beato presses herself against Battler, she can only lean into the touch to steady herself, two shaking figures finding a foundation in one another.

It would feel odd to see Beato like this, so quiet, so soft, if Battler didn't know the truth. But now that she does, she recognizes that this part of Beato has always been here, even if usually hidden away. And she feels so touched to have it shared with her. Battler drops her hand, but only so she can wrap both arms around Beato, her hands resting on the plane of her back. There's no need — no way, really — to pull her any closer, but Battler tries anyway, raking her short nails as gently, as soothingly, as she can against the skin.

Battler nestles her head in the crook of Beato's shoulder and says, her smile returning with every word, "You were right. It's—" she almost says amazing, but thinks better of it, finding a truer word. "It's magic, what looking with love can do."

It takes nothing for Beato to laugh at that. The sound makes her chest feel lighter. There's something heavy and deep that was finally dislodged from the center of her soul. Is this what it's like, to be known? To have someone look and her and say 'I see it all'? She could get drunk off this feeling. She could live for a thousand more years in Battler's arms.

"Battler? Citing magic? I never thought I'd see the day." Her words are teasing but she can't keep the tone of wonder out of her voice. "What games will we play now?" She asks, if only so her admiration isn't quite so clear.

Battler laughs, too, appreciating the taunt in Beato's voice almost as much as the fondness. She has no defense for herself here. But at Beato's next question, Battler feels her smile drop. She squeezes her arms around Beato just once before lifting her head from her shoulder and sighing.

She can think of plenty of games she wants to play. Battler wants to comb through each of Beato's gameboards until she understands all their gory details, even if she doesn't intend to do anything with that information anymore. She wants to sit beside her, shoulder to shoulder in bed, pouring over the same mystery novel and swapping theories. She wants to play anything that will let her hear that infectious laughter and see that wild smile again. She… kind of wants to show Beato Scrubbies, actually.

But none of that can happen yet. They're still on a gameboard, after all, and it's one Battler is still far, far from solving. "I'd like to say whatever you want, but… I think that's out of our control for now."

Beato feels the meta ripple with the shift in mood. It's not hard to guess what Battler is referring to. The world outside of them is one that neither she nor Lambadelta crafted. A world she didn't expect to have to navigate as a player—at least, not like this.

"I suppose we'll have to see where this gameboard takes us," she says with a sigh. "Knowing you, you're going to 'spin the chessboard around' at least a dozen times before you're satisfied with the moves laid out."

She can't help but wonder if Battler will be able to solve this mystery as well. A contract is different than a heartfelt broken promise, and an abused girl is different than a rotating cast of dying friends, but maybe she'll have space in that head of hers. One can only hope.

"You got me there." Not that Battler's been doing a whole lot of chessboard thinking lately. With everything going on, she's been stuck in her own head nearly as much as she's been trapped in this game. "But I will! I meant it, when I said I was going to give this my all and get us back home. I got…" she hesitates.

Is distracted the right word for what made everything else in her life finally click together? Certainly not.

"Well. I won't lie. I've gotten even more motivation to get home now." Before, returning to Rokkenjima was a necessity: a game to win, a family to save. But there was something frightening about that, too, about knowing all she could do was trade one deadly game for another.

Battler has no desire to step away, to separate, but she can feel the shift in the meta and can tell that Death Game Tour is not far behind. She rubs her thumb against Beato's back before letting go of her and stepping back. "So if you've got any time to kill in the Green Room after this, you should start brainstorming what you want to play next."

"I'm sure you're already planning a red-stringed corkboard of your ideas," Beato says. "I'll add my own conspiracies. It'll be interesting to work together on something—" as much as she can help 'solve' this particular mysery that is. Her contract prevents her from saying much, but meddling has always come naturally to Beato, even before she was a witch. "—I look forward to it," she finishes.

"Just don't let yourself spiral into uselessness, Battler," Beato says with a wink.

"Me too," Battler says, and her grin comes back easy. The idea of having Beato on her side makes her feel unstoppable. It's a stupid, cocky feeling, but she refuses to fight it just yet. She could use the confidence.

And once they loop in Lust and Viktor… Well. All of them together might actually have a shot.

Battler isn't sure whether she wants to roll her eyes or laugh at Beato's final comment. She plays along; snickering a little and bowing to an exaggerated depth.

"Yes, Beatrice-sama." The words are already out of her mouth before she can think better of them, so Battler holds her bow for a few extra seconds to work the flustered grin off her face before facing Beato again.

Beato manages to keep the tips of her ears from turning red just barely. She levels her own cocky grin at Battler. "And don't get overconfident. You may have solved one mystery, but never forget that you're incompetent."

She takes a finger and boops Battler on the nose, just because she can.

Battler reaches to her nose on reflex, as if Beato is playing some game of got your nose. Knowing her, she could probably figure out a way to actually make it vanish. "Hey!" she says, mustering up the mock offense she can. "I'm going to make it so you can't say that in red anymore. You're going to start coughing the next time you try. Just wait!"

Her grin widens. "I look forward to it," Beato says. "Maybe by then we won't be stuck in this place anymore." Her eyes dart around them, indicating more than just the sinking ship or the forboding rooms. Maybe the studio itself will be a thing of the past.

Battler catches her meaning and nods. The grin stays on her face, but there's a renewed seriousness in her expression, her dark eyes intense and determined. She reaches one of her hands to grab Beato's as the meta ripples around them, giving way back to the lab. "That's the plan."