Kanda clenched his teeth but made mo other indication that he was suffering what-so-ever. He couldn't wait any longer; he couldn't not do this any longer. The situation was the exact same as it was nine years ago.

If he didn't kill Alma, then he would die.

He didn't want to do it. It was obvious that he didn't, after being given nearly six months of more time with him.

He had to. He wanted to live. He wanted to find that person, even if it meant going back to the fucked up Order, even if it meant leaving Alma behind. He could still hear her voice, even, in the back of his mind, calling to him, repeating the same line she always had: Before the petals fall.

He had to.

Kanda let his sword hand fall, now only holding onto one of Alma's wrists. He clenched the hilt of the sword so hard his knuckles turned white, and before he did anything he only had one thing to choke out:

"I'm sorry." And the blade with through Alma's chest.