The burned out remains of the village stood, surrounded by charred stumps of trees. Humans remains were scattered in holes, some uncovered, some buried deep where the fire could not reach.

No houses stood, no stores or restaurants remained. The temple was burnt down, as well as the church that had once stood separated from the village. Everything was reduced to piles of ashes and small fragments of debris.

A teenager stood amongst the rubble, his blue-violet hair moving gently in the breeze. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his yellow raincoat as he walked, soundlessly making his way through the charred tree stumps that had once made a forest.

It only took him a few moments to reach the burnt wood where his house had once stood. Reduced to ash and pieces of wood, everything he had ever known had disappeared, consumed by the red inferno that had torn through the village.

A few flower petals had survived, charred at the edges and wilted. He took his hand out of his pocket and picked one up gently, almost afraid that it too would crumble to ashes. He knew where the flower petals came from, he knew who had left them there. Staring at the wilted petal he felt a pang of sadness and regret. He never got to say goodbye to the one who waited for him, even after death. He never got to say goodbye to his best friend.

Something in the dirt caught his attention. A blackened, burned piece of what must have been paper stuck out from beneath the dirt. He knelt down and brushed away a layer of dirt. The darkened piece broke off, but a thin line of white appeared in the dirt where it had been. The paper had been buried.

A paper buried where Tohru had left flowers. He had never buried anything. Megumi had never been that close to his window, she's always stayed at the edge of the now burnt forest of tree trunks and ashes.

Frantically scraping at the ground with his fingernails, he uncovered the paper, his mind a blank as he dug.

The paper was white, pure, untouched by the harsh, hungry flames. Words had been messily scrawled on it. He recognized the handwriting instantly. Tears fell from his eyes, descending down his cheeks slowly as he read.

To Natsuno,

I know you came back. I checked your grave on the first night. You were never in there, were you?

I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm so sorry. I can't stop thinking about any other way I could have handled the situation. I never stop regretting, not even for one second.

I don't expect you to forgive me when I can't forgive myself. I only wish I could have seen you one last time. I only wish you knew how much I missed you. I still do.

I'm going to die. I'm done running. I should have stopped before I killed you. I should have left the hunger kill me. I deserve to die again. Because of what I did to you, I deserve to die a thousand deaths.

I don't know if you'll ever read this, but I know when you do that it will be too late, I'll be dead. I'm sitting here with Ritsuko, writing this to you, and I wish I could be next to you instead. It may be too late to say this, but...

I love you, Natsuno. I always have. I wish I could have told you before. I wish I could have been with you longer. It's too late now, and I am filled with nothing but regret.

They'll be coming for me soon. My last hope is that we'll meet again in another life.

Goodbye, Natsuno.

xxx Tohru Mutou

Parts of the words were smeared, stained with tears from the writer. New tears, falling from violet eyes wet the dirt stained paper as Natsuno read it over and over again, his heart aching more with each word.

He wanted to turn back time. He wished he had leaped down from his hiding place in the tallest tree and hugged Tohru, told him everything would be alright, that he forgave him. He wished he had said something, done something, anything.

It was too late now. He knew this as he folded up the paper and tucked it safely into his pocket. He knew this as he stood. He knew this as he walked away. He knew this as he put his hand in his pocket and held the note, walking down the highway he had dreamed of as he'd died. He knew this as he escaped the town that reminded him of everything that could have happened. He knew this as he looked back at the charred remains of his life and the lives that were taken away. He knew this as he remembered the boy who lost his life on the night of the fire. The boy he loved. The boy who spent the last moments of his life writing the letter in his pocket.

That boy would always be remembered at Tohru Mutou, his first close friend, and the boy he would love forever.