By De Mouse

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: All the characters used in this fanfic belongs to Namco and are used without permission. No profit what-so-ever is made from this story. The original plot solely belongs to the author. Readers are asked not to take this story without permission. Any sort duplication is prohibited.

WARNING: Hinted yaoi. Stahn X Leon fic. Not a happy story.

Notes: The timeline for this is somewhere after the game has ended.

The place was silent, befitting for the dead.

But he didn't like to think of it as a burial ground. The words were too solemn, the reality of it too grave. Simply, he preferred to call it the resting-place for the sleeping although he knew that the sleepers would never wake from their slumber. Light rain drizzled down from the dark sky. Sun hidden away by the thickness of the clouds.

He walked along the small path, passing the numerous headstones. The earth was soft and muddy under his boots. He paid no notice since his feet had seen much worse stains. The soil was marked, treaded by so many that had came to the same place. Some veered away to the much smaller paths where grass grew when their presence was absent.

Cherubs stared at him through their stone eyes. Their tiny figures craved out from stone, chilled by the rain. The wet bundles of blossoms lying against the raised ground wilting after periods of neglect.

None of these images made themselves known in his mind.

Blue eyes sought out the lone willow tree sitting at the edge of the lonely place. Under the sighing branches, a smooth marble was embedded deep into the dark brown earth. The ground around it was slightly uneven as though it had been disturbed just recently. He stopped listening to the whisper of the leaves. The droplets of rain as it fell onto the green before sliding down to be swallowed up by the earth.

It was too early for the mourning to come.

[… and a day too late for the burial…]

But it didn't really matter.

The most important thing was that he was there when the youth met his death. The most important was that he played what little role he had in the other's life, as a friend and as an enemy. Both so different yet so much alike. The departed boy would have most probably understood why the blonde youth did not stand amidst the dark black as the empty casket was lowered into the ground.

He smiled, sorrow painfully twisted in his chest.

[Maybe it was not that empty…]

They had placed the boy's beloved books into the soft velvet casing. A replacement for the missing body.

[He wouldn't have liked it…]

No, the youth would have never liked to see the tattered pages of his one passion in life rotting away in the depths of the brown wood. He would have preferred them being used by someone else. Not being kept useless in a closed box. Rutee threw a fit that was fierce enough to cause another destruction of the world but no one took any notice. She was nothing in their eyes, no matter how much her temper resembled the dead boy's or the exact color of her hair matched the other. In their eyes, she was only a poor street girl from a backwater village like him.

[I never told her..]

A confession? Perhaps.

New pain was best left unprovoked. Let the past sleep where it was supposed to be.

Soft rain kissed the pale skin, slipping down his chin. The clear liquid soaked into his clothes, making them heavier while chilling the flesh underneath. But he could not feel the cold.

[Funny..I came all the way….yet I don't have anything to say..]

He brought no words. His hands empty of flowers for he thought that it would be inappropriate. Besides, the other had not cared for such fancies. The youth had made it quite clear that the blossoms, however pretty they were, wilted in the face of time. Something that he had always said although neglecting to mention the emotion beneath the delicate gift.

[I am here….]

Not daring to speak aloud for fear it would break the silence that was woven around the area. It was odd knowing that the boy was not under the deep soil, only pages of the books he left behind. Yet somehow it was almost soothing to just stand there and see the smooth black marble. Like he was communicating with the other boy and not just the empty air.

"The rest of the gang is doing well," he murmured, "I am doing okay too."

Raindrops slid down the wild blonde hair and down the cotton shirt. The belt on his side was missing the blade that used to hang there. He had found the sudden disappearance of that weight disorientating. It had taken a while to get used to the new situation but he had never had taken a step towards not aching for the loss.

[….gone in a blink of an eye…do you know that I miss you?]

He bent down, staring at the lonely marble wondering if he should pray. But he never knew what religion the other believed in. Or what little good would a prayer do. How could a person mourn when he couldn't find the tears to shed or the right words to say? Did he have to wear black to say that he was in grief or was the painful ache in his chest enough?

He didn't know the answers.

Instead, he reached up to touch the black marble. Perhaps he was hoping the inky surface would be warm, like the other's skin. Blue eyes dimmed remembering the careless brushes during their travels. But the marble was icy cold from the rain. He tilted his head and smiled at the irony.

[Just like you…so cold outside..yet warm inside]

But he would be lying if he did compare the other youth to a slab of marble. The hard surface held no warmth within it, unlike the other.

The long fingers carefully traced deep engravings out.

[Leon..]

A name that meant so many things; a friend, a comrade and an enemy. A youth that kept so many things to himself. He way he kept the world out behind a thick barrier. The lingering glances that stayed too long to not mean anything. The one time where he blushed like a embarrassed maiden in a forgotten conversation.

He lowered his gaze, fingers curling at the surname that followed that name.

[Magnus…]

The word that was guilty for the boy's death. Anger came swiftly but immediately subdued. Control came easy once he mastered the fact that there was nothing that could change the past.

[…..and bring you back..]

Nothing that could make a difference in reality that happened so long ago.

Gently he pressed his palm against the numbers just below the elegantly craved out words. Sixteen years was too short a number. Too young for death. He felt the pang of regret. So much like the feeling when his sword met the cold flesh of the departed boy. He was dead already when that happened. Body dead yet his soul was trapped.

[You wanted me to kill you…..]

Blue eyes closed.

[and spare you the agony…..]

A barely noticeable shiver racked the slim shoulders but there were no tears on the pale cheeks.

[And I did……was death painful for you?]

Like the pain he was feeling from the youth's missing presence.

He sometimes turned around expecting the sarcastic drawl to ring out into the night. He remembered so clearly once when the other had laughed. Not bitter. Just laughed. A pure delighted sound that drew his attention to that beautiful face. The rare smile that fleeted through the pale lips as though it was on the wings on a bird.

[you looked different when you were happy….did you know that?]

He tenderly brushed his numbed fingers over the name once more.

[But you aren't here now….]

The pale hand slowly came away from the marble. There weren't any words to say. He had none to start off with anyway.

Getting up to his feet, he glanced one last time at the darkness of the headstone. He needed to get back home soon. Once back, he knew there wouldn't be anymore chances for another visit. This would be the first time and the last. It was a pity he did not own a picture of the other. No items to remember him with, only memories. Fear gnawed at him because one day he might forget. Might forget this dark haired companion that managed to put himself so near his heart.

[Do you believe in souls, Leon?]

One last look before he turned away. Just one more…

Remember the way he threw his head back and laughed. The pink tint on the pale cheeks as a smile grew. The uncaring attitude that vanished for just a second to allow one small peek that the boy that hid beneath it. Remember the graceful way he drew his sword. The natural and deadly dance he displayed in battle. Remember each word that passed his lips. Remember the wicked way he teased Rutee. Remember how he cried, so silent, pretending it didn't hurt. Remember the way he slept. The dark lashes creating mesmerizing shadows on the fair skin.

[Do you believe in heaven?]

Remember and keep it deep in his mind.

Somewhere where he could never forget, like the loved words in the pages of the other's book.

[Maybe you are there now……]

Time pulled at him, reminding him of the minutes that he was letting slip by.

[Maybe I will go there too one day…]

He wanted to stay a little longer but couldn't. Rain still continued falling from the skies.

[Maybe one day….we will meet….]

Silently, he went walked away from the lonely spot. Blonde hair bright against the darkness of the sky. One more glance back at the solitary marble before his feet moved until they left the soft ground. Rain gathered in the soft soil. Pools of water in the newly made footsteps reflected the weeping sky.

The cherubs stood still, the only figures left among the headstones.

[Until then…it was nice knowing you…]

~OWARI~