The void swallowed them whole, icy and silent. Hinata clung to Alya's hand, refusing to let go, even as her vision blurred and the world spun around them. Then, suddenly, they stumbled onto solid ground.
They stood in a vast, circular chamber, its walls lined with endless shelves of books. In the center sat an old wooden desk, lit by a single lamp that cast long shadows across yellowed pages and broken pens.
Behind the desk, a woman in a black dress hunched over a manuscript, her hair a tangle of dark ink that dripped onto the floor. She didn't look up as Hinata and Alya approached, her hand moving rapidly, scribbling words that bled like fresh wounds onto the page.
"The Writer," Alya whispered, trembling.
Hinata stepped forward, voice shaking. "Stop! You can't do this anymore!"
The Writer's pen paused. Slowly, she lifted her head, revealing a hollow face, features shifting and blurring like liquid letters on old paper.
"Why do you fight?" the Writer hissed. "Stories end. That is their nature."
Alya clung to Hinata's arm. "You're not just ending a story… you're erasing us… you're erasing *me*…"
The Writer's mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "You were never meant to last. You're just scribbles in the margin. Forgotten drafts."
Hinata felt rage burn in her chest. "She's real to me! And maybe I can't change how every story ends… but I won't let *you* decide this one."
The Writer rose from the chair, ink dripping from her fingers, forming into long, blade-like tendrils. "Then fight me," she whispered. "But you can't win."
Hinata looked at Alya, eyes blazing. "I won't let you go," she said softly.
Alya nodded, tears in her eyes. "Then… let's do it together."
The Writer lunged, shadows exploding outward. Hinata and Alya ducked, rolling across the floor as ink blades slashed the ground, spraying black droplets like blood. Hinata snatched a broken pen from the desk, clutching it like a knife.
The Writer shrieked, slashing again. Hinata dodged, lunging forward to stab the pen into the Writer's shoulder. The ink screamed, splattering across the room, but the Writer kept coming, stronger, faster.
"WRITE YOUR ENDING!" the Writer howled, lifting Hinata by the throat with a tendril of ink.
Hinata gasped, vision fading. But then she saw Alya grab the glowing manuscript from the desk, flipping to the final page.
"HINATA!" Alya cried. "I'll write it with you!"
And as Hinata choked, she reached toward Alya, willing every last breath into the words that would save them both…