Chapter 9

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"This is it."

The heat of the sun kissed Emi's bare shoulders, short blades of grass grazing her ankles as the wind danced with the ends of her hair, whisking her dress to the side.

Next to her, an expressionless blue gaze was locked on the tombstone in front of them.

Shin read the name over and over, until his gaze left skid marks atop the freshly engraved letters, just like the ones carved into his palms by his own nails.

In Memory Of
Jiro

That was all it said.

The ray of sunshine that had once been Jiro, was now reduced to four words on a block of stone.

"Mr. Shinohara prepared all this." Emi whispered, almost as if her voice could trigger earthquakes beneath her feet. "I'll thank him when I see him."

"Did you..." the older boy's voice was hoarse, but Emi couldn't help the pang of relief rushing through her at the sound of it. "Did you see it happen? Jiro's death?"

The girl's gaze lowered to the floor, her fingers playing with the trinity reaper that was wrapped around her wrist.

"I... yeah." She answered, withstanding the burning of memories that flashed across her eyes of that very moment where Jiro had whispered his goodbyes.

Live on, for the both of us.

He had said just as the trinity reaper delivered its final blow, ripping his life away and leaving nothing but an empty shell in its stead. Emi's lips folded together, the corners of her mouth tugged down as she fought a wave of tears.

No more crying, she had decided.

Now, she was going to live. 

"It must've been hard for him... having to hide that from us."

Emi's shaky breath left her lungs as she turned toward Shin's lost gaze, his words echoing against her eardrums.

Shin was right. Jiro must have gone through hell trying to not get them involved. It was only now that the subtleties in his behavior made sense; his aversion to blood, to fighting, to being involved with any ghoul whatsoever. Emi now wished she could've helped soothe the blond's pain as he navigated through life with the burden on his shoulders.

A few feet back, a silent Rei watched as both elites conversed, catching the bitter taste of sadness in the air. He pursed his lips together, wondering how a piece of stone could evoke such emotions from them.

People died all the time. Rei himself had played grim reaper more times than the sky had stars, ripping lives away like it was a game. However, although he could not recognize it, there was a heaviness to his chest that burned with the image of Emi screaming for someone who was long gone. That pain was unmistakable.

"What are we going to do now?" Asked Emi, already exhausted from having to play strong one between the two elites.

Shin's gaze locked on Jiro's name, hovering lonely atop the stone. No last name, no birth date. As if his existence was reduced to his death. As if the most kind being in this earth had not even been alive.

"I'm going to find out more about Jiro." Shin decided, and Emi shot him a confused look.

"What do you mean?"

"Where did he come from? How did he end up among the elites? And why did he have to keep his nature a secret." He answered, pausing in each sentence, thinking over his words as if making a mental list of each one.

They both stood in silence for a few moments, allowing a whisk of wind to blow through them, and they could've sworn it smelled like Jiro.

Everything had changed for them, and oddly enough, neither knew what to do with this newly gained freedom. There were no missions to do, no more training, it was almost as if they did not belong to this world that had once sheltered them and later forgotten all about them.

One thing was certain, however. They would not allow anything to break them apart again.

"Hey," came a soft whisper from behind them as the snow haired boy walked up to the pair, finally settling his blood red gaze upon the grave. "All the other stones have flowers. We should pick some and bring them tomorrow."

Emi offered him a sad smile, breathing in the afternoon air before nodding.

"Yeah. We should get going too, Mr. Shinohara wanted to speak to you."

Rei mimicked her silent nod, now remembering that the older man requested a visit once they got back.

"Well..." Emi turned to Shin, who had also fallen into a trance-like silence as he stared unmoving at the grave. "Let's come back tomorrow, okay?" She encouraged, to which the coal haired boy nodded softly.

As they whispered their goodbyes to Jiro, they couldn't help the feeling of a piece of them being violently ripped away.

The three made their way out of the cemetery, completely oblivious to the fact that a pair of curious yet guarded eyes followed them all the way, only relaxing once they were completely out of sight. Emerging from the greenery that had shielded him from vision, a petite boy walked over to the tombstone in question.

"Jiro..." he read out loud, and the name echoed through the rings of his mouth, his teal-colored hair falling in front of his eyes as he looked down at the grave. Jiro, he repeated again and again, unconscious to the curling of his fists at his sides.

"They didn't even bother to write his whole name."

The boy was not sad.

He was furious.

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