With the stick, Etsu was confident that nothing would happen. Now, with reason and logic on her side, she was even more confident that nothing would happen. So when Eld wrapped his jacket around the dagger and grasped the hilt, she didn't expect him to faint even in the slightest. More and more she was doubted the warning, but the scenario was still interesting to her. She watched Eld's face the whole time, though. Deep down on the inside, there was some part of her that wanted to believe in the warning, and that part right now was frightened for Eld.
And when Eld took hold of the dagger and pulled it from the ground and the crossbow it set within, he'd experience an overwhelming sense of . . .
Nothing.
At first . . .
"Tsukimono-san?" Etsu asked, trying to get his attention. "Are you . . . faint?"
What would follow in the next several seconds would be horrible feeling in the pit of Eldridge Tsukimono's stomach. A natural feeling of guilt, as if he'd just taken something that was never meant to be removed, and separated two spirits that did not deserve to be separated-- a feeling, and perhaps fear, that this headstone was meant for two, not one, and he may have done their memory a grave disservice in separating them . . .