Chapter Text
Berserk: An Ending
“Can you take that off?” Casca asks, gesturing at Guts’ armor. “I’ll be right back.”
She’s out of the room before Guts can say anything in response.[3]
As the door swings closed, she almost freezes completely, her heart racing desperately, eyes wide, as she contemplates the idea of…
Then she turns and walks down the hall.
Down the stairs.
To the room where the rest of their friends are.
Schierke’s already almost finished making everyone some herbal concoction. Casca goes straight to her.
“Can I get some of that for me and Guts?”
The young witch hesitates a moment, then ladles liquid into two mugs, without commenting—or meeting Casca’s eyes.
Casca picks up the mugs and turns around, and as she looks at the room she realizes…
Not a single one of them knows how to act around her now.
She…she can’t remember clearly what happened earlier, when Griffith was here. But…even with them just knowing that the boy was their son, that the boy and her son and Griffith were somehow the same…that Griffith, her, and Guts have some connection…
The way they look at her…
She sees Isma, Isidro, and Serpico standing in the corner of the room, speaking quietly. Trading looks. Trying to hide their whispers. Their eyes move deliberately away…then back towards her…
She can’t get out of the room fast enough.
She can’t explain what was happening earlier, and…and just the thought of being asked…
Her heart races in fear.
She needs to be…to be back where it’s quiet. Where Guts…
As she reaches the foot of the stairs, Farnesse catches her. A hand falling on her shoulder that she barely avoids flinching away from.
She looks up at the other woman, and meets eyes full of concern.
“Casca,” Farnesse says, “are you sure…you’re ready?”
Casca, looking into those familiar eyes, hesitates.
She thinks of the whispers behind her. Of the quiet upstairs.
“Yes,” she says, voice firm.
When Casca gets back into the room, Guts has taken off the armor. He’s wearing an old pair of pants and a worn, sleeveless black shirt[4] that she almost recognizes. The black metal is a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed, just to the right of where he’s sitting.
When she comes in, he’s halfway through standing up as if to leave.
Casca pretends not to notice. Pretends to focus on keeping the mugs from spilling as she kicks the door closed, giving him room to…
But when she looks up, he’s still hovering over the bed, looking at her uncertainly.
“This,” she says, “will help with the healing,” she nods towards the mugs. She walks to the edge of the room, putting the mugs on the bedside table—out of his reach. “Still too hot to drink, though,” she says. “It’ll be a few minutes.”
Behind her…she hears him sit.
Casca closes her eyes, briefly, with relief, with…
Then she sits down to his left.
Neither of them speaks for long minutes. The steam from the mugs begins to thin.
Their legs, beside each other on the bed, do not touch.
Finally, Casca says, her voice flat, “We had a son.”
Guts looks down at his hands, one real, one metal, resting in his lap.
“…yeah.”
“I can’t believe I forgot I had…” Casca impatiently rubs her hand over her face, brushes a tear from her cheek.
She takes a deep breath. “He…our son, he…”
“He’s alive, Cas,” says Guts harshly, “so there’s hope.”
Casca feels her body bending forward, her hands clutching her elbows.
“But…he’s…he’s in--,” she whispers hoarsely.
“I’ll get ‘im back,” says Guts, his eye full of fire.
Casca’s eye is caught by his clenching fist.
“I’ll…” Guts’ teeth grind, “I’ll rip ‘im out if I have to.”
Casca bows her head.
“I,” he says, voice hoarse, “I swear, Cas, I’ll…”
Casca’s head jerks upwards suddenly.
“What do you mean ‘I’?”
Guts doesn’t look at her as she turns her head, her eyes falling on him. On what she can see of his face, his eye half-lidded. His metal arm.
“You’re…” he swallows, “you’re safe here, Cas.” He shakes his head. “An’ it’ll never be safe, out there, with the brand. You can stay here, with Farnesse and the others, an’ I’ll—”
“Leave again?”
There’s silence after she speaks.
He doesn’t look at her.
“Leave me?” Casca almost chokes on the second word.
Guts gazes at his mismatched hands.
“It’s…it’s not safe with me, Cas,” he says, finally.
He clenches his shaking fist.
“I…I only hurt you,”[5] he breathes.
His body goes limp, his hand loosening completely, his spine bowing forward slightly, his eye closed.
“I…I’m sorry Casca,” Guts says. “I’m…so…”
He falls silent.
There’s nothing he can say that will change…
The silence grows. She doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move.
There’s nothing for him to do but wait…until…
“You…” she finally says.
He hears a strange sound from her, like a catch in her throat…
And then she’s in front of him, her left fist hurtling forward, slamming into his jaw, knocking him down against the bed.
He doesn’t flinch away or try to dodge her.
He just sits back up, eye still downcast.
He knows he should look at her, face the betrayal in her eyes, but…
“You stupid fool,” he hears her growl, and she catches him with a fist that comes in from the left this time, so he sees it approach—but of course, does nothing.
He just lets her hurt him.
It’s what I…it’s all I…
“Why didn’t you just kill me?” she hisses at him.
Guts’ eye rises to her face in shock, and he instinctively catches her left hand as she tries to hit him again.
She doesn’t pull away from him when he touches her.
In her eyes, he sees tears welling up, flooding out…her face contorted in…
She’s truly furious, at him, because…
She’s serious, he realizes.
His mouth opens—but he can’t think what to say. He just stares at her, baffled, for long moments until…
She collapses to her knees in front of him. Her hands clench on his calves, her forehead pressing against him.
“You’re such a fool,”[6] she repeats, and he feels her shaking.
“I…I remember everything,” she gasps out.
“Watching every…every day, every night, just watching…watching you…”
“...bleed, and watching you fight, and watching you…hurt and…and suffer…and…I couldn’t…”
Her grip becomes so tight it's almost painful...
“...I couldn’t reach you, I couldn’t help you, and you just…just…” Casca’s shaking with the force of her sobs, “You just wouldn’t let me go—why wouldn’t you just let me go?!”
She looks up at him, her tearful eyes intent as if it’s a serious question…
His mouth opens, though he has no idea what to say…but she’s shaking her head already before he can speak.
“You should have killed me, before I killed you,” she bites out, “That’s what I wanted, you fool!”
He has a sudden, forceful memory of the look in Casca’s eyes on that terrible day, as she’d leveled her sword at him…a look he’d recognized, a look he hadn’t seen since…since before…[7]
Her head bends, her face hidden from him.
“You,” she mumbles, “you could have…you could have done whatever…” he feels her shudder, “it’s not like I’d have cared once I was dead, you should have,” her fingers dig into his legs, “Why didn’t you just do it, why didn’t you…”
“You should have…”
Guts’ knees hit the floor.
And she’s in his arms and he’s holding her so close, so tight, just as he’d longed to for so long…she’s so warm…
And her body is against him, her head on his neck, and he holds her…
And every time she mutters “you should have…”
He cuts her off and whispers, “no, I shouldn’t.”[8]
---------
Eventually she stops telling him that he should have killed her.
Her crying slows, and she presses close to him.
He feels her heartbeat starting to ease.
Then he turns his head and whispers into her ear, “Casca. If you weren’ still here, I’d be…nothin’ but what you saw that day,” Guts shudders, ever so slightly. “Nothin’ but another monster.”
Casca looks up, slowly, as he falls silent. Her face is so close to his, and a few tears still…
He finds his hand is against her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears.
“You,” Guts says, voice wavering, “are the only reason I’m still…me. The reason I can still…”
His voice trails off.
Her gaze hasn’t left his face.
Whatever it is she sees there…
Some of the sorrow clears from her eyes as she looks at him. Not a lot. Just enough to….
Casca lowers her head to his chest, and he just holds her. With tenderness.[9]
They stay that way for a long time. He’d stay that way forever, if he could.
Finally, Guts feels Casca turn her head to his left. Her fingers touch the place where the metal bands wrap around his flesh, securing his prosthetic.
“How,” she asks, “does this thing come off?”
Guts starts to lean back, move his right hand to unfasten the leather and metal—[10]
But then he hesitates. Because Casca’s in the way, and even when he nudges her, very gently, she shows no sign of moving so he can reach the prosthetic himself.
So he leans back a little, and talks her through undoing each strap. Her fingers dart and fly over the metal, he can see in the corner of his eye, until the prosthetic is loose, until it pulls away from the stump of his left arm.
Casca sets it on the floor. Then her hands reach back up, and she carefully unwinds his bandages until what remains of his left arm is bare to her.
For a few moments, she gently runs her fingertips along the flat skin that ends the limb now.
Guts can’t think of what to say. From what she’d said before…Do you remember…If you don’t, I…[11]
Casca jerks up and away from him.
“Guts, why is your arm trembling?”
Gut blinks, then realizes the stump is shaking after the weight of the iron arm was removed. He’s gotten so used to that tremble after lifting something when he isn’t wearing the armor, it hadn’t occurred to him…
He pulls away from her. “That? That’s nothin'. I’m just a bit—”
But Casca’s grabbing his right arm and pulling his hand level, palm to palm, with her own, and before he can pull it back he knows she’s felt it.
Guts looks away from her.
“The armor?” Casca finally asks him.
Guts nods, briefly. “It…takes a toll.”
“What kind of toll?” Her voice is deep and very slightly…broken.
Guts hesitates.
She grabs his chin and pulls him to look at her. Her eyes are wide and urgent.
“Guts, what kind of toll?”
“…Sensation,” he finally answers.[12]
She’s staring at him. He can’t quite meet her eye.
“Taste,” he admits, “smell, feeling…sight. It fades, after I use the armor. An’ well, I’ve had to use it a lot, so—”
“Stop.”
He looks at her again.
Realizes she’s shaking against him. And there are tears in her eyes…because of—
“Stop using it,” she hisses fiercely.
“I can’t,” he says. Casca opens her mouth, but he shakes his head and talks over her, “I can’ fight without it. I did try,” he almost laughs when he realizes it was just a few hours ago, “jus’ today I tried doin’ what I have to do without wearin’ it. I couldn’t hold my sword, throw a knife…I need it, at least for now. Because I have to keep fightin’, soon—"
Casca is shaking her head, but he doesn’t back down.
Instead, he gives her a flippant grin, and half-jokingly says, “Hackin’ at foes is what I’m for after all—all I’m good for, really, so—”
Her slap is completely unexpected.
Guts stares at her, his left cheek smarting. Her chest is heaving, her eyes are wide and furious.
Then she collapses against him again, her forehead pressing to his neck, her face against his chest.
“That…not true” she chokes out.[13]
Guts slowly reaches his hand up, strokes her hair very, very gently.
“Cas, I…I’m so glad I could protect you all this time, Cas, I didn’ mean—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, fool,” she snaps, one of her fists hammering him.
Then she presses her left cheek to his chest, and she says…
“I was so far way, like…like I was under the surface of darkened water. I…I couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, I…I probably would have just faded, drifted there forever, except—”
“Except that—”
“Even deeper inside me…”
“I…I still remembered…”
Casca leans back to look at him.
Her trembling fingertips touch his stunned face.
“There was someone,” she says softly, “I wanted to see.”[14][15]
Guts can barely breathe, his heart is racing, not daring to…
Casca leans forward.
And her lips brush his.
He’s moving toward her almost instinctively, his mouth opening just a little…
He feels her tongue flicker over his…
Then she pulls back a little.
“Can you still taste that?” she asks, her forehead leaning against his.
“Y...yeah,” he breathes into the air between them.
He feels Casca’s right hand run over his left arm…
His hand hasn’t moved from her hair.
He realizes he’s frozen, barely breathing, afraid to shatter what reality has somehow become.
“Can you still,” Casca’s fingertips gently brush along the skin of his upper arm, “feel this?”
“Y—” Guts swallows, “yes.”
She moves abruptly forward, her legs spreading, her body sliding forward, towards him. Her knees bump the floor to either side of his hips, and she’s so desperately close to him…
His eye closes, his hand falls from her head, brushes her back until he finds the base of her spine, where his hand rests as her hands rise to cradle his face…
“Can you,” Casca says, and then pushes the core of her body against him, and he gasps, and as her breath pulls in sharply she whispers, “can you feel that?”
“In—in my soul,” he groans, and his eye opens, her face is all he can see and…
And her whole body is pressing flush against him, she’s so warm and soft and close and…
And he slides his hand around and up her torso until he finally, finally cups her breast, and when his fingers fold around her there her face softens, she opens her mouth a little and moans, and he catches the sound with his own mouth, kisses her deeply, and…
Guts pulls away from her.
He falls back against the side of the bed behind them, his heart beating wildly and sweat pouring down his face as memory forces its way in.
Casca blinks at him, holding frozen in place as her eyes focus. She looks…confused…and a little…
“You…” she bites her lip, “you don’t want to…”
Guts cups her cheek in his hand.
“Jus’ not—not tonight, not when…when,” he swallows, “when it wasn’ long since…since he was here…”
And Guts knows an instant later that he’s made the right choice. That he was right about what Casca has and hasn’t found a way to remember.
Some things, he thinks, no one can run from...no matter how badly…
Casca is pulling back, away from him.
You want to, he thinks, you can’ run away from memory.[16]
And he’s sure because as she pulls away, Casca’s face transforms entirely. She hits the floor hard, and then she hugs herself with a white-knuckled grip, shaking uncontrollably, sweat pouring down her face…
Should I get Farnesse? Guts wonders, as he stares at her in fear.
Would…would she really know…?
“Casca?”
Her head tilts up. He keeps his distance. She…her eyes, she can’t…
And then her eyes focus on a place near his face.
Not looking away from her, Guts carefully moves to extend his legs, so his body falls lower and he’s nearer her eye level.
She doesn’t change her posture or expression, or seem to notice his legs as he stretches them out by her right side…
Guts leans forward very, very slowly, and extends his hand.
Can…can you even see…
And, also slowly, Casca’s left hand releases its deathgrip on her own body. Extends. Moves toward…
Guts hesitates…then he raises his hand so the palm faces her.
She doesn’t slow…no, her movement becomes very slightly faster.
Her fingers touch his.
Then press.
And, as he relaxes his hand, makes space…her fingers fall between his.[17]
Guts swallows hard.
As cautiously as he would with a wild animal, he slowly draws her closer to him. She edges forward, bit by bit…
Her head bows, but she keeps leaning forward…
Her hair brushes his chest…
He can just hear her shallow breath…
She hasn’t let go of his hand.
So he leans his head forward…
He wants to wrap her in two arms and tighten his grip and never, ever let her go, he wants to make…make all of it go instead, he wants to so very desperately…
But he knows better.
Instead, he gently squeezes her hand.
“Casca,” Guts says, each syllable carefully pronounced, “you’re…”
He shudders, but only a little.
“You’re safe, Casca,” he murmurs, her hair moving ever so slightly in the air from his breath, “you’re safe…”
He feels…her body shakes…
It’s like something in her cracks…
And suddenly, she’s sobbing. Sobbing deep, gasping sobs like she’s been a long way underwater.
She clutches at him, her hand leaving his so she can grasp his shoulder and pull close to him, her nails digging into him as she whispers:
“Couldn’t…couldn’t stop him, he wouldn’t stop…Guts, why…why wouldn’t he stop…”[18]
She falls into his lap and he holds her as tightly as he dares, and his knees rise and his legs come up to barricade her safely against his body, as he hears…as she gasps the words, again and again between sobs, the same words…and as he whispers, again and again, his heart broken open:
“I know. I know.”
It’s a long time before Casca’s breathing finally eases. Evens out.
Before she stops shaking and shuddering in what's left of Guts’ arms.
Until she just curls against him, exhausted by pain. And he just holds her.
Finally, she stirs and looks at him.
She moves slightly so her legs strength out to his left, adjusting so that she can tilt her head back a little. Look at his face.
Her right hand reaches up. Her thumb touches the tears on his cheek.
She draws his head down, presses his forehead to hers.
She closes her eyes and he watches her, and they sit like that. Pain and breath intermingling.
At last, Casca whispers, “How…how could he hate us that much?”
Guts doesn’t have an answer.
“After…after everything I…” She sniffs, her eyes still closed. “I was going to…before, that’s what I was doing when I told you to go. I was…he wanted me to…”[19]
“I know” says Guts quietly.
She shakes her head. “I thought…” her eyes open, and her gaze meets what remains of his.
“Do you think he always hated us?”
Guts looks down.
“He…he can’t have, or…” his eye closes, “or he wouldn’ have been able to brand us,” he says tightly.[20]
Casca bends forward, pressing her head to his chest, her left hand touching the brand at her own breast.
“How could he do this to us?” she whispers.
“I…” Guts swallows, “I dunno, Cas.”
He leans his face forward against her hair. “I just dunno.”
There’s a long silence.
Then Guts’ eye opens. His head tilts up as he looks far, far away, his right arm clenching around Casca’s shoulders, pulling her body towards him protectively.
“Someday I’ll kill him,” he says, his voice like a beast’s growl. “Someday I’ll kill him for it, I swear Cas.”
She doesn’t look up.
“Our son…” she says quietly.
The tension deserts him.
He buries his face in her hair and mutters, “There has to be a way to get him, to cleave ‘em apart, he…that kid…”
He feels her starting to shudder again.
He squeezes her shoulders.
“That kid survived, Cas,” Guts says to her fiercely. “He…he wouldn’t have kept strugglin’ an’ strugglin’ just to…if we can have managed to survive all that, then he can—”
“Judeau said something like that to me,” Casca says quietly.
Guts freezes.
Her eyes are wide, her forehead pressed to his chest as she looks down.
“After Pippin died to save me. Judeau made me run away, and he…he said something like that, like what you just said, and he…” she half-laughs, half-sobs, “he said it was what you’d say…”
Guts’ eye is wide. And he can feel himself, very slightly, shaking.
Casca’s right hand tightens into a fist, pulling at Guts’ shirt.
“And then he…he made it so the…the apostle’s blades went through him instead of me, went…went all the way through him, and he…but I…” She’s shaking, “but I made him keep going, I pulled him along with me, and then…and then he…Judeau…he was just…”
Guts feels the tension run through her body, and her shaking stops. She holds completely still.
“And then I was alone, I was all alone, all…and they, they found me, they found me and they—”[21]
“Look at me, Cas,” Guts says urgently, pulling her up so he can see her face. “Look at me, you’re—”
She reaches out and grabs his face with both hands.
“They,” she gasps, her eyes wide and haunted, “They—”
“Cas, I know.” Guts’ voice breaks as he says it—but he keeps going, moving his arm around hers and cupping her face with his hand, “You don’ need to tell me, Cas, I—”
He sees something flicker in her eyes, some awareness, as she focuses on…
He pulls her against him again, his arm around her shoulder, his chin on her forehead.
“You don’ have to tell...to tell me anythin’, Cas” he repeats, voice husky…and he feels her breath stop hitching. “I know,” he repeats, his eye closing, “I know.”
They hold still for a few moments. He feels her breathing slow--not to normal, but no longer panicking.
She pulls back so she can look up at him.
When he meets her gaze, he sees her pain, but, also…
“You do,” she whispers, and she sounds almost…relieved, “don’t you?”
“I…” Guts shudders. “I see it every time I…every time I remember…I…it’s like I’m seein’ you again..."
"...every time I think of…there’s you, so…so…”
He shakes his head, looking down, away from her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice full of pain,” I…I couldn’t reach you…I…”
It’s strange—as Casca looks at him, his face contorted with memory, she feels…her own pain, it’s like…like it’s no longer quite as…
“I,” Guts chokes, “I was tryin’ to help him,” Guts’ eye is wide and haunted. “I…I stayed up there, even after he said the words an’ sacrificed us all, even after he…I was tryin’ to help him, while you all…and by the time I…”
He shudders, remembering a shining sphere of faces. A pool of blood…
“By the time I finally,” he’s speaking in a rush now, “finally got down there, everyone was…one of ‘em ate Gaston from the inside of his head out in front of me, right in front of me, and…and Pippin, and Corkus…they, they were already…an’ their bodies, they…”
Guts is hunching over now, “everyone else was…what they had done to everyone, and…and you were…”[22]
She feels his fingers convulse on her shoulder, gripping tight, almost painful.
“I couldn’t, couldn’t get to you…” he rasps, “I couldn’t…"
"...and then, then he…” Guts shudders, “he was there, an'’'…”
Tears are starting to run down his face again, “an’ when I saw him, I thought for a moment[23]…then…but then, he…you, you were there, an’ he…”
Guts is shaking uncontrollably now, teeth chattering, eye wide. “I’m so sorry, Casca, I’m so sorry, he did it because of—”
Casca reaches out and pulls him roughly against her, his head under her neck, her arms wrapped tight around him.
“I chose you,” she chokes out, “I did.”[24]
He shudders, once more, convulsive…then feels his body grow limp.
He feels her hands in his hair. Stroking him…
This can’t be real, he thinks…
“I couldn’ reach you,” he whispers again, his face against her warm skin.
“No matter what I did…” the remainder of his left arm twitches, “I couldn’…”[25]
Her hands tighten in his hair, and he feels her press against him.
“You can reach me now.”
He’s glad she can’t see his face.
Slowly, he bends forward.
And, gently, he puts his arms around her, as much as he can.
---------
[1] It’s a very common mistake that Zodd would have brought Griffith to the island. He wouldn’t.
The first time to boy appeared in V28 E238, it made sense that Zodd had brought him. The gang didn’t know it, but Griffith’s army was quite close. The next day, Guts and gang walked to Vrittanis. On the same day, Sonia and Mule were able to walk from Vrittanis to the army’s encampment, arriving in V29 E250. Flying to Guts and gang from back: completely reasonable for Zodd.
The second time, on the Sea God island, Zodd did not bring the boy. We see how the boy got there in V37 E328. He used his astral form on the world tree and travelled through the branches.
This is definitely how he got to Skellig the final time. The boy was able to travel by the world tree, and we actually see Griffith disappear right in front of the world tree. Elfhelm is in the middle of the ocean at an unknown location. Getting there took weeks or months by ship. There’s no way Zodd got there in less than a night to drop the kid off, which is what it’s been on the outside, as Danaan explains in V41 E364: a single night was passing off the island while a day and two nights passed on it. The time skip is “vague,” not one way, so Zodd getting to the island wouldn’t work out logistically.
[2] Note that Guts and Casca are going to be spending a lot of time together, so for visualization purposes the way I imagined it while writing was that Guts was about the size he was, compared to Casca, during the Conviction arc.
(For those like me who didn’t notice until it was pointed out to them, by 2018 when the Berserk Guidebook was published Guts is being drawn as like 3 feet taller and 4 times the size of Casca, having gotten steadily larger throughout the series.)
[3] “are about to have a conversation for the first time in more than 20 years…”
and she immediately leaves!!!!!
Yeah this I’m going to call a tribute to Miura. “Oh look, the plot’s about to advance…just kidding!”
[4] As last seen in V38 E342
[5] Quoting from V24 E199
[6] “You’re such a fool” is from V9 E45
[7] This is referring to the events of V23 E187-190
[8] So, think back to the winter’s journey and imagine you’re Casca.
Now, Casca in the Golden Age has an established pattern of behavior when Guts is fighting to protect her (and others). She resists the fact that often the fights are just too big for her (100 man and Wyald). She resists that to the point of being irrational, trying to stay when she frankly should have left, at one point drawing a sword on goddamn Wyald, which is insane.
When she can’t stick with Guts and watch his back, she patches him up afterwards. These are some of their most emotionally revelatory and intimate moments together, in V7 E22, V19 E56, and V11 66-67.
So, imagine that you’re Casca, trapped under the water on the winter’s journey. Every single day, you watch Guts put himself in danger for you. In fact, you watch yourself put him in more danger through lack of understanding. Then you watch him take care of you, literally sacrificing his own food and clothing for you, while you just take everything you can get and ignore him. You watch him hurt, but you can’t touch him or help him. You can’t fight beside him, you’re completely useless and passive--But at least it’s stable.
Then it gets worse. Then, instead of watching yourself tolerate Guts and accept the huge amount that he giving you, you watch yourself hurt him. Not physically, but emotionally. And you know, just like you did at the Eclipse, that because of how much he loves you and once trusted you, when the emotional pain is associated with you, it’s enough to break him. You know exactly how terribly you’re hurting him, exactly what you’re doing to him. And there's nothing at all you can do.
At the same time you’re also watching him tear himself apart for you physically. Knowing he might die at any moment, right in front of you, and all you’ll have given him for it is pain. You’re walking around and deep, deep down there, knowing, “I’m going to watch Guts die, any second, pointlessly trying to defend this pile of shards that used to be me.”
And then each time, you watch him survive, and come back to you. And he sits down, and Puck fixes up his wounds, and you glare at him. And then it’s raining so he takes off his goddamn cloak and puts it on you instead.
And it’s worth noting that, while readers get an unspeakably horrific impression through Guts’ POV of what might have happened in V23 E190—that rape did not happen. The violence was almost entirely in Guts’ imagination. Casca’s legs are actually closed the whole time. Don't get me wrong: what Guts did was not in any way acceptable, it’s not all right, but still, it was not what Guts felt like it was.
So, strictly from Casca’s perspective: in V23 E190, Guts began to hurt her, which was what she thought she deserved, by trying to tear her apart with his teeth (which, worth noting, is the act of a freaking crazy person)—but he didn't even come close to actually killing her.
All of this results in the painful sight we see in V39 E348. The hound, broken, bleeding, alone, in pain, and still fighting—and fighting much harder for the sake of a coffin than for his own sake.
And inside the coffin is the shell that’s left of you, and also the super-sheltered, innocent version of yourself that is still able to interact with the outside world. A tiny fragment of who you once were. Cute. Basically nothing compared to what you once were, and what the hound still is.
What I’m interpreting and using in my story is that, when Casca had that flashback to the Eclipse in E189, on her return to consciousness she was more our Casca than at any other point since V13.
There are a few reasons for this (note that we’ll probably never know if I’m “right” about something this long ago and whether it’s what Miura intended, so I’m calling that a moot point).
One reason is that Elaine’s behavior here is fundamentally inconsistent in two ways. Elaine is not very good at using tools. She manages to feed herself sometimes, uses her teeth a few times, and at one point she goes for a knife on the winter’s journey. But going for the knife doesn’t read as aggressive, more like an extension of the teeth.
In E189, Elaine/Casca starts as being pinned to the ground, naked, hands doubly restrained (tangled in her dress and held down by one of the assholes), to holding a sword and being surrounded by three corpses.
That is one hell of a fucking change, and it happens in a short period of time. This is a situation that would have been difficult for normal-Casca to extract herself from, as seen in V7 E20.
And then there’s Elaine’s response to danger. Elaine’s responses to danger are either to be oblivious or to run away. The only exception is when she’s cornered or her son is involved—at that point she will become more aggressive, but only right up until she can run away.
In E189, instead of running away, she thinks about whether or not to run at Guts, then attacks him.
Guts himself thinks that this is insane, with a “no way” thought bubble in E189.
Guts is right: it doesn’t make sense for Elaine to do this. It doesn’t make sense for her to have pulled herself together enough to attack these men (we see her cornered and threatened, having flashbacks and terrified, many other times without something like this happening), and it very, very much doesn’t make any sense for her to then attack Guts instead of dropping the sword and running away.
But Casca is, when Guts is involved, dumb enough to do something desperate like that (see her actions in V11 E63-64). She has a self-destructive streak we see in V9 E45 and again in V40 E354. And, as we learn in E355, she was “beneath the surface of darkened water”—not the same thing as being unaware of what was happening outside.
Tl;dr: for the purposes of this scene, in 189 Casca clawed her way to the surface of the water to try to get Guts to kill her, so that he wouldn’t die himself trying to protect her.
[9] “with tenderness” is a reference to V23 E189
[10] Casca, note, shows absolutely no interest, from the moment they are reunited, in that which Guts has built up around himself in order to continue as he once was.
[11] reference to events in V41 E364
[12] This references Skull Knight in V28 E237 and Guts’ experiences in other episodes, most recently V41 E364.
[13] I’m going to reference Wounds 1 and 2 A LOT in the coming pages…but this, this is a reference to V9 E44’s final page.
[14] Casca is quoting her inner monologue from V40 E355.
[15] There’s a common theory that this line refers to the boy, not Guts. Here’s why it’s wrong:
1) The mini-Casca inside her memories doesn't say this until *after* her memories of Guts and her wider life have returned--and *before* her memories of her post-Eclipse life are there. That means her consciousness there is effectively pre-Eclipse, and therefore does not include her son. That this line is repeated after Casca has transitioned away from being, “Elaine,” to being self-consciously, “Casca,” confirms that it’s her speaking for the first time, not the mini-remnant of her.
2) When the line returns, Guts is on the page. On the previous page, the only person whose face Casca didn't actually remember seeing post-Eclipse is Guts. She actually remembers seeing the kid, so thinking, “I want to see him,” about a kid who she was just thinking of making direct and intense eye contact with doesn’t track. In a way, as Elaine, the only person she could see was the boy—so why would that be an unresolved thought if Casca had repeatedly and recently seen the person in question?
3) She reflects that this is the only thought she had while she was in her checked-out state. Her son was born *after* her checked-out state began. Timeline doesn't add up.
4) This line, and the idea that that connection to Guts is what she’s hanging on to, is the final point in a set of parallels around the big 3 characters of Casca, Guts, and Griffith. Griffith in the dungeon thinks that the only thing keeping his trauma from consuming his mind entirely is his connection to Guts. When Guts goes into the armor for the first time and his trauma is overwhelming him, all he remembers is Griffith’s name, not his own—until he sees Casca, and remembers her, and through her remembers himself. The last piece here is that Casca only survived and was able to emerge from her trauma at all (her only thought in the darkness, just like Griffith) because of her bond to Guts.
5) The Eclipse, everything Casca is afraid to see and remember, is symbolized in her dreamscape by her son. Her unconscious mind puts up a huge fight *against* 'seeing' her son, so it doesn't make sense that the one thought that was keeping her going in these years was that she *wanted* to see her son.
6) This theory that the line is about her son is predicated on the idea that Miura was actively misleading readers about the only new piece of Casca’s character he introduced after she woke up. Miura often withheld information, but actively misleading on this level would have been something different.
All three times, the line specifically refers to Guts. The first time, the panel cuts to an image of dog Guts. The second time, the line is on the page with him. The third time, again, the line is framed on the page as referring very specifically to him, and to Casca’s problem that she literally, “can’t see him.” Plus, she actually saw the boy again in 364, to absolutely no trumpets, surprise, or even particularly intense emotional reaction, so that’d be a baffling conclusion to, again, the only new character element she has since she woke up.
[16] I wasn’t lying when I said she’d remembered everything right after 364, but in order to function properly this is something she compartmentalized while she had to process other shit. Otherwise she would have been like this right away while there was stuff happening and fights and shit. Casca is not a person who wants to sit weeping in a corner: this ability to repress a memory was something she could do, and she did it in order to continue functioning…but it was never going to last forever.
And yes, this does actually parallel Guts repressing his memories of his childhood assault in Wounds. Except here, he guesses/figures out that’s what she’s doing before it goes too far. I totally planned that parallel.
[17] The way Guts and Casca hold hands here invokes V9 E47, “Wounds Part 2.”
[18] Casca’s talking about her rape in V13 E86-87.
[19] Casca’s talking about the events of V12 E71
[20] Guts knows Griffith cannot have hated them because he was present during the God Hand monologue in V3 E0G
[21] Casca is recounting the events of V13 E81.
[22] Guts talking about staying with Griffith refers to the events of V12 E76-79. His recounting of Gaston’s death and Pippin’s and Corkus’ corpses comes from V13 E84-85
[23] Guts is referencing panels in V13 E86 in which, upon seeing Griffith, he at first seems relieved, and then disbelieving, and then just terrified, and then angry (note I’m simplifying, fuck Miura was good at portraying emotions).
[24] Casca talking about how she chose him is referring to V9 E47, plus some stuff before that.
[25] Guts’ comments here about “couldn’t reach you” apply not only to the rape of E86-87, but also to the moment he saw Casca and failed to reach her in V13 E85. That image of Casca out of his reach, held above apostles, recurs in V27 E228 and V37 E328.
A word about the nitty-gritty of this work as a whole:
This is my ending, sure, but it’s something I created from what Miura left behind. I’m sure there’s more of me in it than I can ever recognize, but I set out to make something that could be read as internally consistent with the rest of the story. I reread constantly while writing, trying to capture and reproduce characters’ voices. I added as few characters as I possibly could. I kept firmly to the key themes as I understand them, and didn't do anything that I didn't think had strong textual support.
In terms of the plot and backstory, I went deep instead of wide whenever possible. I’m absolutely sure that at least the first half of the plot is nothing like how Miura would have done it, because Miura was a great mangaka. A great mangaka always has plot stuff in their pocket that readers can’t possibly predict, things which will alter the course of the story. I'm not a mangaka, and you won’t find any big-reveal theories being realized in this story. Nothing about Guts’ parentage, very little about the true plan of the God Hand or purpose of Falconia or Skull Knight’s backstory. Sure, I have my mad theories, like most people, I suspect. But whenever possible, I tried to focus on the most logical next step to what was written in the text.
The main thing for me was the characters. I wrote this because I wanted to know what would have happened next. First because I wanted to know what would happen next for Guts and Casca, and then because I wanted to know how it’d end for them. I thought the situation they were left in at the end of 364 was unbearably tragic, as they watched Griffith a) steal their son from them and b) invade the place of safety they’d worked so hard to reach. I needed it to not stay like that, so I sat down to write.
In general, whenever I could, I was working to capture the voices of the characters as they were in the official English translations of Berserk. This was ridiculously fun. I ended up with a whole new appreciation for Miura’s writing, especially in Millennium Falcon and Fantasia. The character voices are so distinct, so clear and wonderful. I learned a lot. And I found out that writing Guts and Puck fighting is wicked fun, too, which I never would have realized.
I also gained a whole other level of appreciation for Miura as a storyteller from trying to write this. You may notice that the characters talk way too much in this work. All of them. Way too much. That’s because all I had was words on a page to use for the characterization and storytelling. Even cutting away to an image or describing a character’s physical movements felt clunky after reading Berserk. Miura had so much more than words to tell this story: he had the images as a whole, he had details within the images of foreground and background, he had shadings and artistic techniques, he had the ability to cut away for a panel to suggest a connection without forcing it, he had the ability to place characters in whatever physical arrangement would most emphasize what he wanted to be emphasized, he had the characters’ facial expressions, their physical movements, their eyes—and then he had their words. But he could also have more than one character talk at once, he could create emphasis with changes in font and word bubble divisions, and do even more that I’m sure I’m forgetting. And then he had the actual dialogue.
Writing this sometimes felt like trying to play a whole orchestral piece with a violin and a drum.
There were things I just didn’t try to do. I didn’t try to recreate Miura’s humor. Partly because it was so much part of the background and I was focusing on the foreground, partly because a lot of the humor was cultural, and partly because it was just him, it was something that felt more like Kentaro Miura was speaking than anything else in the story, and I couldn’t come close to something like that. Nor did I want to try.
And I didn’t even try to write real Berserk fights. Instead, I focused on what was happening with the characters in the fights. I worked on doing something Miura often did at the height of Berserk, in which the character having the fight and the characters watching the fight were both developing through the action. But I didn’t write much in the way of fight action, because it would be like trying to play an organ piece with a recorder.
You also obviously noticed that there are a bunch of footnotes here. Enjoy them if you like that kind of thing, skip them if not!
This work will post every Wednesday and Saturday.