The killing game was over,and all was said and mastermind was dead,crushed beneath a block of blood had sprayed over the ground,a bright scattering pink,proof of her cursed should hate her,but he didn't,he couldn't,couldn't hate her.
All he could feel was regret,not hatred,not spite,not for all those that had been lost,all the memories they had made that blew away like so many flower petals on the wind.
He regretted forgetting everything they once had.
...
Blonde hair,light violet eyes filled with light and gentleness.
Shuuichi remembered Kaede Akamatsu.
The Ultimate Pianist had been the the class representative,with her cheerful,encouraging personality and the supportive words that spilled out of her mouth like the melodies that she could play.
Shuuichi had loved her,for a brief had loved the way her fingers danced over white and black keys,tapping out tunes that entranced loved the way she would laugh humbly when others praised her for her brilliance,the way she took criticism with acceptance and grace,the way she would never let her triumphs get to her loved her because she brought him out of his shell,somehow managing to turn him down carefully when he confessed to her(he settled for being her best friend).
Kaede was brave,until the very sacrificed herself so they could live(even if it was her that started the killings),and he was thankful to her,when her body hung from a rope above a giant keyboard,a reminder to them of everything they risked losing.
But she was faded now,wasn't she?A single wrinkled photograph on the timeline of their lives,an image seen but never heard,just like the music that had died with her.
…...
Rantaro Amami was the first victim.
Shuuichi remembered finding him,lying on the floor of the library,so still,so pink liquid had poured from his head,covering the floor around him and splattering onto the shot put ball that had ended his life with one strike.
Rantaro had wanted to protect them(just like Kaede) and the mastermind had killed him for they had found out his title later,Shuuichi had Ultimate Survivor...how ironic for him to be the first victim...for his life to spill out onto the ground as his head was smashed in for the sake of the plot. A plot that he had never wanted a part in.
Shuuichi supposed, in another world, Rantaro would have gotten everything he deserved. He would have been the class playboy, with his feminine features, his unique style and his carefree yet compassionate attitude. Everyone would have...should have flocked to him, respecting him instead of treating him with suspicion just because he was different and mysterious. He would have been happy and free and everything he wanted to be, he would have travelled the world like he had always wanted to, he could have had fun and lived, heart full of adventure, instead of the tragic ending he had now- bleeding, bleeding out onto a black carpet, taking an innocent girl down with him as he tumbled into a blackhole of doubt.
That Rantaro had existed once upon a time, long long ago in a distant memory. The Rantaro that had laughed and messed around and had dreams of the world which could have been fulfilled…..
Could have..would have... but dreams were just dreams weren't they?
Shuuichi pitied the Ultimate Survivor, the boy who had gone through twice as much as they had, the boy who… in another world, had twelve sisters waiting for someone who would never come back.
….
Kaito Momota… the Luminary of the Stars… who had a heart as wide and open as the universe he loved. He shone bright, like a star, guiding, protecting them with rough encouragement and hard pats on the back.
The galaxy was his dream, a dream of space and planets and everything that was in the sky. Likewise, he had had hopes of all of them, a hope that reached further than the sky, through the white clouds and into the beautiful sparkling darkness beyond. When Kaede had been executed, and they were all on the brink of giving up, Kaito had came forward as their new leader, even if some of them thought him dumb and stupid and impulsive(He wasn't. Not really). He had infected them all with the desire to live, better and happier, infected them all with the hope that they would see the killing game through to the end, that no one had to die. And even if he couldn't have the power to stop things(inevitable things) from happening, he still pushed forward, sending his own energetic, optimistic energy to Shuuichi and everyone around him. He had made Maki feel human again, and his final wish for the future was for her to be happy.
In Kaito's last moments, Shuuichi remembered seeing his smirk on the screen as his execution brought him to the stars. The Ultimate Astronaut had died in defiance of everything the Killing game stood for, fulfilling his dream of going to space as the chronic disease that brought the outer world despair ended him before Monokuma could. Despair turned to Hope, that was what Kaito Momota stood for, the satisfied smile on his face unforgettable as he choked on the stardust he was made of.
Kaito may be a tragic hero, claimed by a fate that he didn't deserve (He should have had so much more, a chance to actually live for those he loved). But he was also Shuuichi's friend, and Shuuichi was proud ( more than proud) to have known him.
In a far away land, out of reach of time or death, a star patterned coat wavered in the breeze as its owner grinned and waved to friends he would have gladly given everything for.
(He already had)
….
Kirumi Tojo was selfless. She hid her own feelings, taking pleasure in serving others instead of herself. And even if she killed and murdered, no one blamed her for it. She was just acting for her country after all, doing what she needed to, no matter the cost she had to pay.
There was no one who didn't weep for her, the angel who had tumbled from heaven when it was so close, barely out of reach. They had all seen the look of her face when her wings had been torn away, as she had fell down, down, down, knowing that she had failed herself and the morals she had upheld all her life.
Kirumi could dream no more, so Shuuichi would dream for her. In another place… or another life, maybe Kirumi could have done everything she needed to, and she could give them all that gentle, relaxed smile she had when she knew she had finished a task. Or maybe...maybe… life wouldn't be so cruel to her, and she would have another chance. Instead of the Ultimate Maid, she could be a normal girl, unknowing, innocent , the only responsibilities asked of her being school and work.
What would that Kirumi be like? Would she be free? Would she be a dreamer? Would she be talkative and joyful instead of keeping herself all prim and proper for others' sake?
She would be kind and knew that much. And he regretted not knowing her better before she had given every single piece of herself to a past that hadn't even existed at all.
(Even if her motive had been pointless in the end, she had still fought for it with all her soul…..that was what it meant to honour,with perseverance, and with determination)
….
Miu Iruma had been memorable.
Yes, she had been rude, vulgar and boisterous, even in a life that she hadn't gotten to enjoy. But that was who she was - Miu Iruma, the beautiful genius. She boasted and made innuendos at the worst of times, but that was just part of her, even if it made others laugh and insult her and call her all sorts of names. Sometimes, Shuuichi wondered if it was a fake persona she had made up for herself, when she swung from moods as quickly as a lightning storm. It turned out it wasn' was just part of Miu's 'charm', even if no one did understand her,not even Kiibo, in her last days.
Sometimes, they called Miu an idiot, just because of her absent minded remarks. But she was far from that, she was clever, far cleverer than they could all imagine. And in a distant world where she wouldn't ever be as desperate as to plot murder, she would have truly been the golden brained genius inventor she always said she was, with her name plastered across cities and skies of blue in honour of her inventions.(Shuuichi knew that she would have wanted that, so,so much.)
It was sad, really, how recklessly and impulsively Miu had acted in the game. It was her haste and desperation that had thrown all her plans into hell, leading to her downfall. If only she had trusted, if only she had believed in them for a bit longer, she would still be alive and the virtual world she had put so much into creating wouldn't have turned on its was such a shame, how the world had misunderstood her, and she had misunderstood it in return.
When she had choked out her final few foolishly hopeless breaths , her life snuffed out like a candle as she was suffocated by someone who didn't even want to kill her, her eyes must have been blue, such a pretty shade of blue, the colour of wilting forget me nots.
(She was a forget me not too)
….
Unique. That was the sort of person Tenko Chabashira , her hatred for boys made her irrational and strange, bursting out in long rants about how all males were menaces and degenerates. But Shuuichi knew that she did care - not only for the girls, as she claimed, but for all of them.
She would have had the same eccentricity that she had in a different world, Shuuichi decided. She would have been protective, and a feminist and would probably have had the same sensitivity, judging those of of a different gender and picking fights with them at the slightest hint of insult.
It was her own way of protecting herself,a barrier she had built up. He didn't know what Tenko had gone through, but he wouldn't judge her for her special way of showing that she cared. (It wasn't like they were normal after all.)
Tenko loved Yumeno with all her heart, that was definite. No matter in this life, or another , she would still love the tiny redhead, even if they didn't show any hint of loving her back. Tenko had protected Yumeno, guarding her against anything that may cause her harm, caring for her until the end. It was the very same love that had killed Tenko, when she took Yumeno's place in the seance and was stabbed in the back. Then, it had been too late for both of them, when Yumeno finally realised what the other girl had felt for her. No amount of tears or begging could ever be enough to bring Tenko Chabashira back.
But Shuuichi knew, he knew that Tenko would have been glad, glad that her life had had some meaning, that she had died being a protector,a shield against danger,that she had succeeded in saving the girl she loved with all her heart.
(That was all that Tenko ever wanted)
….
Ryoma Hoshi was a mystery, up until the moment they saw his body sink into still water, his blood tainting his surroundings dark pink as flesh was torn from bone, bone from flesh.
Shuuichi had never been especially close with the short individual, but even he could tell that the so called 'Killer tennis" had an aura of regret and depression around him. That should have been a warning sign, blaring loudly above their heads,but he hadn't really thought it mattered then(He had made a mistake).Later, Kirumi had revealed the truth about Ryoma's death. The Tennis Pro had wanted to die, he had wished for someone to end his pitiful life, and the Maid had granted his wish. Everything, every little teeny detail about the second trial had all led up to Ryoma's suicidal thoughts which had bloomed in his mind like a black thorny flower when no one bothered to care if he was okay.
Ryoma always said that he regretted existing, and no one had corrected him, even as he had prepared himself not to survive the killing game. He had chosen solitude and silence over hope for the future, given himself up fully to despair.
(Why hadn't he seen the second chance that he could have?)
….
A hundred deaths. That was Shinguuji Korekiyo's goal. He had wanted to sacrifice a hundred women to his dead sister as tribute and he had nearly completed his dream with the deaths of both Angie and Tenko.
Disgusting. That was a word Tenko would have used to describe him (if she was alive), and she wouldn't be wrong. The anthropologist clung on to the memory of a dead family member, a sickly sweet voice giving him the motive to end two lives(and possibly many many more). Shinguuji loved his dear sister, and he would do anything, anything,no matter how unmoral, how wrong, it was for her. He would tear his own world down, burn it to shreds, boil it in a sea of flames and lava until it was nothing but dust and ashes if it meant pleasing her.
His pain was her pleasure, and he would hurt himself over and over again for her sake.
Shuuichi pitied Shinguuji. Yes, he may have been mentally twisted and a horrible person, but he had done it for love, and Shuuichi couldn't really find it in himself to blame the other for that. Imagine a world, where Shinguuiji's sense of reality and fiction, truth and lie, life and death hadn't been warped, a world where his sister hadn't existed. He wouldn't have killed then,would he? And he, Angie and Tenko would be standing with Shuuichi at the last trial, glossy black locks gleaming as they faced down the mastermind together.
Shinguuji was a thousand shades of wrong, the very definition of a lovesick mess, but Shuuichi would still remember him(the better parts of him that had lived), the person who had weaved so many tales of far away cultures and eras and supernatural worlds, who had had a passion for romance and forbidden relationship , who had taught them the beauty of humans on those candlelight nights.
(In the end, Shinguuji was never truly evil.)
….
Gonta Gokuhara had wanted nothing more than to be a gentleman. He was polite and courteous and he loved life, no matter what size or shape it came in. He was too sweet, too gentle, too naive for the world they had been trapped in, and he had paid the price for a crime he hadn't committed, not really. His one fatal flaw was his trust, he believed deeply in his friends, each and every one of them, and he believed they could never do wrong, that they were all good people who meant well.
It was his innocence that had ended him, his innocence that had told him to protect someone who had used him to murder someone else, who had manipulated him into becoming an unknowing blackened,treating him as no more than a disposable pawn in a game of chess. It was his willingness to help that had landed him in the middle of a gritty courtyard, executed by the same bugs he had always loved so much. His future and everything he had wanted to be, honourable,brave, moral…..had went up in blazing flames as he cried over the unholy taint of death that had stained his hands.
In another world,a better,merciful one, Gonta would have been the gentleman that he had dreamed of another world, his snow white purity would not have been stained by anything or anyone. In another world, his smile, filled with childlike curiousity,would never have faltered or been soaked with tears as he was led away to his doom.
The Ultimate Entomologist deserved better, so much, much better(like all of them did). He should have gotten the chance to live, or even to die as a victim(At least then, he wouldn't know the horror and shock of being the culprit responsible for the death of one of his friends.) But he never did…. all Gonta Gokuhara had tried to do was keep his friends safe, and in doing so, he had destroyed himself.
(Shuuichi had never, not even for a nanosecond, blamed Gonta what what he hadn't done)
…..
Angie Yonaga believed in God.
Day by day,trapped in that prison schoolground she would speak of holiness and a higher power that would guide would weave words of warmth and persuasion in a chippy,bird like song,bending others to her will in the name of her God.
Shuuichi could say that Angie was misled by the promises of a fake being and a fake power that spoke through claimed to be an extension of a greater being's will,but that hadnt spared her,had it?She had been stabbed,the blade of a silver katana cutting through her skin,finding no resistance from any divine she had bleed pink flowers of blood,her lifesource bleeding out onto a wooden floor, just like any other human would.
But no matter what her ideals,Shuuichi knew she had meant no harm to Kaede and Rantaro and Gonta and Kaito before her,she had just tried to protect them in her own if it meant being imprisoned forever,a flock of birds in cages,she would accept it all,the distrust,the judgement,the lifelong sentence, if it meant that no one else had to die.
That was the hope behind Angie's golden ,she had loved her god,and she had wanted His love and she had loved her friends too,and she would see that no harm came to them even if it meant she had to threaten and twist,plot and create,use the name of her beloved God in order to initiate them all into the council she decreed would be good for order and peace.(She had succeeded then,partially)
And Shuuichi wondered,if Angie was happy now,an smiling angel by her God's side,preaching the religion and faith she had followed all her she was watching over them now,from the fluffy white marshmallow clouds that made up her Heaven,giving them the love and care that she had tried to spread during the time they had known each other.
(Shuuichi had misunderstood her then,seen her as a cultist who had tried to force them into choosing her as their if he could ever see her again,he knew they first thing he would say to her would be:sorry)
…...
Yumeno Himiko had never really loved Tenko the way the other had least,she hadn't loved the older girl back when she was alive,and how much did she regret that?A lot,a lot,lot,more than the tears she cried during the trial could express.
In the beginning,Himiko had never thought anyone close to her would really ,it was a killing game….but Tenko and Angie had seemed so solid,so real,that the prospect of them not being there was just as vague as the idea of magic not Angie's body had been found,Himiko realised,she was so very wrong,she was wrong when she had thought that they couldn't die,that they were that thought had became an even harsher reality,when Tenko's body had been found under a cage,the dog statue that had been placed on it smiling cruelly from the sidelines:as if mocking her,laughing,laughing,laughing on and on….
Shinguuji Korekiyo was the killer,they had found out later Himiko could have smiled as he was executed,first by fire,then by purification,once for each person he had been such a suitable ending for a cold blooded sicko that she could have chuckled in glee as he sunk beneath a bubbling molten surface. (She had felt a cold sort of satisfaction as he was rejected by his 'dear sister's' spirit) But she didn't,she couldn't find it in herself to smile or chuckle even if revenge was what she she had felt then was a sick,sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she remembered how it would have been her who lay under those metal wires,had it not been for Tenko who had taken her place.
And so the little redhead witch dreamt. She dreamt up a world where Tenko and Angie were still alive, where all of them were sound and carefree. In those unreal days, she would be free to repay Tenko, and doves would be pulled from hats, cards would be flipped over themselves, magic would be cast without a secondary meaning.
In that other time and place, Himiko eyes would open, and she would finally see the love that Tenko had held for her, so. Very. Clearly.
….
. was what Maki Harumaku was made up was a killer,that she didn't deny,and the knowledge she had was of how to wield blades,how to fire a gun,how to make people hurt and bleed.
At first,she had known that she wasn't human,that she was nothing more than a intelligent being who was trained to follow had seen the world through lenses of black and white,black being the ones she had to erase,and white being those of insignificant she had been plunged headfirst into a killing game,she wasn't shocked,or scared(like some of the others were).After all,betrayal and blood were no alien to an assassin,an assassin go had no choice but to see in the simple shades of black and white.
And it was those shades of black and white that had nearly ruined her,when she was dragged unwillingly into a world of purples and pinks and gray and colours that swirled and the one person who had actually made her feel like a real human was taken away by a demon in disguise,she had done the only thing she knew how to do in her monochrome life:kill.
Blood,an arrow in the arm of a magenta had gone so horrifyingly plan had been thwarted by the very same person she had wanted to save,and she became the blackened?For the murder of Kaito Momota,who had called her Makiroll,who had accepted her when no one else wanted to,who had loved her and saved her when she was everything but normal.(How could someone as heroic as him love a killer?She couldn't ever understand that)
But even in his last moments,when he was coughing and spitting up his rotting lungs with bright pink streams rolling down his lips,he had wanted to save them,save her.(She was astounded by the complicity of it all)
In the mists of a fictional world, his voice had told her to live on,for him,for everything they once she did what he wished,when she dreamed of a thousand different futures where he was still alive at night, when she stayed up on the rooftop with Shuuichi Saihara on those starry nights,talking,talking,remembering the story of a brave man who lived on in their memories.
Maki hoped,that somewhere out there,in distant space,another universe,a reversed galaxy,Kaito Momota was still there,waiting for her with his last breath.
(Was she being selfish?She didn't know)
…
Kiibo was innocent,Shuuichi robot had been like a new born,made for the specific purpose of spying on them and controlling their decisions,but Kiibo himself?He didn't know anything aside from what the fake memories had taught him,and he was too trusting to ever think otherwise.
Kiibo had believed in their was just and righteous and hopeful,just like he had been programmed to aside from that,he was a real person,he was Shuuichi's he had fought for them until the end,even as he swore to destroy what Danganronpa stood for,even as he exploded in blue and white and rained his fury down from the heavens.(He had spared them,after all)
If there was anyone who had really,really,deserved to live,it would have been Kiibo,who hadn't gotten the life he should have had,who had been tinkered with and brought to life by manmade means,who was pulled along by strings,forced to dance by an audience who wanted entertainment.
Wires and pipes replaced veins,and clockwork ticked on and on,pumping electric blue oil into a mechanical didn't have a heart,even if his icy eyes glowed and whirred and he moved and talked so very did a heart really matter when the robot was so full of optimism and encouragement,a better person than some.
Maybe in another world,a world where none of them had to suffer,where they were just a class of high school students looking for fun,Kiibo could be a real boy,with classmates who loved him not because they were interested in how his metal form worked,nor for his robotic structure,but for his true spirited self.
(Kiibo was a robot,but he was one of the best people Shuuichi had ever known)
….
It wasn't the first time Tsumugi Shirogane had acted as Junko was the 3rd,in every single time,her cosplays were flawless,managing to convince everyone that she was the strawberry blonde Ultimate Despair before the glowing taint of red hot betrayal set in.
Oh,how amazing the looks on her so called friends faces were when she exposed herself as the marble faces utterly filled with despair,delicious,overwhelming could have cried at their expressions,tears of joy as she screamed and pointed and crossed her arms,putting on a show,acting out her part on a stage which could crumble at one wrong line.
She loved it,every single exhilarating moment of loved the spotlight,the danger,the persona that changed in a lightning flash,flickering on and off like a river that raced over stones and crashed on black heels would click clack over the carpet of a trial room as she jeered and threw insults,taking in hatred(or terror) aimed at show was risky,she knew,and she could be executed if the participants chose Hope over her Despair,but she was lucky twice,and she supposed she would be lucky the third time.(Luck never lasts though.)
In the morning,Tsumugi acted sweet,and helpful,blending into the background,using her cosplaying skills to her advantage as she won her 'friends' night,she locked the door to her talent lab,stroking the hair of her Junko wig,checking all her supplies over as she talked to herself in the voice of Despair's Queen,giggling and wondering how this season's detective could be so useless,so pure,so….frustratingly blind.
But he had exposed her in the end,hadn't he?After all his friends had been picked off so torturingly slowly,he had finally undid the mistake he had committed in the beginning,pointed an accusing finger at the right person this time around.
Tsumugi's luck ran out the third would die for her crimes,and she couldn't say that she wasn't scared,because she was,she knew that no one would save her,no one would spare her,and no one would pity her.(It was her own fault)
And so the mastermind of the 53rd and last season of Danganronpa stood on the carved steel symbol of her dreams,waving,hand in hand with the mascot of her once favourite tv beloved world burned and crashed down around her,her creation going up in smoke and flames as she continued acting,like she always had.
A laser blue beam shot through the air,pink fountained over rock and rubble, and the curtain snapped shut on Tsumugi's final performance.
….
'Nishishishi'
That was a laugh that would haunt Shuuichi for all his life.
On those dark,moonless nights ,Shuuichi would dream of cold metal,poison and the rancid taste of would feel arrows hitting home in his skin,acid eating through his veins and hell fire burning its way through his flesh and pores as he fought the urge to scream and wail and claw at himself with ragged,uncut would find himself lying on a starry patterned coat,his chest rising and falling with each harsh,laboured breath that was drawn out of him as eyes stared at him with barely disguised would be a 'crack' next,as a hundred heavy pounds of steel splintered bone and marrow,crushing down on his frail body as he was broken down into a neon pink puddle that dripped and oozed.
He would wake in cold sweat,bolting awake with the knowledge that he would die a thousand times over before he would exchange his life with what Ouma Kokichi had gone through.
But….the question is….could I have saved him?He often pondered as he leaned against his too soft pillows,Could I have stopped him from doing what he did if only i had taken the time to break down the walls that surrounded him?
Could I…?Could I…..?The answer was always-
Ouma Kokichi was a liar and a was Shuuichi's first impression of the younger poked and prodded,teased and pranked,exaggerated and made up stories as he lied glibly through his would throw out insults left and right,calling the others bad names and embarrassing them until they stomped off in a had never understood why they would do that,if it meant that everyone would hate them and increase the risk of them being found dead on a bloody floor.
Ouma took risks,that was was careful and trusting and Ouma was the exact hid their true feelings behind their mask of villainy,weaving a fabricated personality that even Tsumugi's cosplays couldn't match. They had took up the role of the rotten apple in the group,faking sadistic smiles and obnoxious crocodile tears when all they wanted was for someone to notice how much pain they were in.(No one ever did.)
But maybe,Shuuichi could have,if he had bothered to care had called him their beloved Saihara -chan,acting so interested in him for a few moments before turning on their heel and proclaiming him they had thought the detective would have the intelligence to see right through them,when they had leaned up with those mischievous,pleading doll it had been Shuuichi who was too unseeing and cruel,apathetically blocking out the other when they methodically lied and hid themselves behind their only defense,who had stood with his friends against Ouma because it was the easiest,painless option.(They had pretended to smile and laugh at executions and he called them out as the mastermind)
Considering it all,Shuuichi believed Ouma's dying had been real,truthful when they died,and those were their true emotions(how could they not be true when they had written a whole script and letters just for that purpose?) All Ouma had wanted was to defeat the mastermind and the killing game, and he was too clever for his own good, knowing that being truthful like Kaede and Rantaro would just get him he made himself hated instead of liked, portrayed himself as an antagonist instead of a hero, turned truth into lies all for the sake of protecting them and stopping their fictional reality.
(In the end, Ouma Kokichi was his own kind of hero.)
A knife, a game, taunts and chuckles. Blood had splattered on a wooden table top as Ouma stabbed a sharp knife through his fingers. That was the only time they had gotten Shuuichi to care, with their detached reactions as they studied a deep cut, as they lied again and said they were used to pain, and it was nothing compared to what they had experienced , Shuuichi knew that they had been lying then, and that they had bled and hurt like any other.
In an alternative universe where Saihara had been kinder,smarter,more observant,a universe where he had tried to accept the lost,lonely,lying boy.A universe where he could have gotten there in time,before it was all too that universe,he would have caught Ouma Kokichi before they fell,too hard,too fast…
Before they fell apart at the bottom of a abyss of no return.
(All the liar ever wanted was for someone to see the truth)
…
There had been 16 of them,and now there were 3.
Three survivors,three who had lived to tell a tale of heartbreak and depression and who had lived to mourn the lives that had been lost in attempts for freedom and happiness.
Shuuichi,Maki and Yumeno had been kept at Team Danganronpa's headquarters for a few months after they had stumbled out of the collapsed ruins of the had been given videos of the killing game,and they had gone over them day and night,replaying and pausing the video to take screenshots,which they printed there was one,then two,then they multiplied,until the white plaster walls of their rooms were covered in the good memories that they had of their long gone friends, overlapping and then overlapping again, filling misty blank spaces with sunlit days and sleepless nights, faces and laughter and tears that echoed on and on like a repeating lyricless song in their minds.
In a prettier, better world in the sunset sky, cherry blossoms would bloom outside a tall brown brick school building, the last vestiges of winter just a mere thought in the distance. Violent fields rolled onto green pastures, bees hovering lazily over crimson strawberries without worry. And under a half shattered glass dome, the sound of chatter and enjoyment would echo through hallways and rooms,remembering...remembering….remembering…..
Memories.
Of a different time and place.
Never forgotten.
(And so they lived on in the stars)