Notes – Set sometime early on in season two, probably just before Aki gets her D-Wheel. Written because it bothers me that Aki never talks about Divine anymore one way or the other.

You couldn't compare their relationship to that of two ordinary people.

The closest you could come, maybe, was to think about those two kids on the playground who were inseparable. They might not be good for each other but they stuck together and that was what mattered. Then one day one of those kids moves away and the other one just stops talking about them. You'd expect them to still go on about their friend, saying how their doing wherever they've gone, but they don't.

They move on. They make new friends. They become a different person.

But do they truly forget about what they once had?

In her case they were not children. Nor had they been friends on a playground. They had been… They had been… Well, as she'd always thought there was no easy way to compare their relationship to anything.

The general view was that Divine had used Aki for her powers, that he was a bad person who had to be stopped at all costs, but she could never really see him that way herself.

For all she'd finally come to accept Yuusei's message that she could be a strong person on her own, part of her could never let go of the fact that Divine had come to her when she had no one. He gave her a purpose, a place among people who had suffered the same way that she had, and he gave her companionship.

When she looked up at him she'd see the pride that he had for her in his eyes – that tender expression had been such a contrast to the twisted image that everyone had of him.

And yet…

She couldn't bring herself to talk about him now. No one understood. They had all worked hard to teach her the values of their friendship so that she could see that she could trust them. And she did trust them now.

Talking about Divine to any of them would have felt like she was throwing it all back in their faces.

So she shut him away. Keeping his image in the private part of her mind where only she could remember him, appreciate him, fear him for all that he had been.

Or at least all that she had known he had been. There was so much of the man she'd never seen and now probably never would do.

But part of her wanted something physical to remember him by. Something that said 'here was Divine and I remember him'.

As silly as it had been she'd gone through with it. She'd picked a day when she knew the others were practising for the WRGP, she knew the twins were at school and she booked some study leave for herself. Then she'd left the city on foot. It had been a long walk, but she was determined and it was worth it.

Eventually Aki had found a spot that was far enough away from society and under enough cover to go unnoticed. Then she had gathered up a pile of stones, a time consuming task that left her usually clean hands caked in dirt and in need of a wash, before finally retrieving a bouquet of roses from a backpack she had brought with her. They were a bit squashed from the journey but it had to be roses. Roses had been their flowers.

She placed them on top of the mound she'd created.

It was not truly a grave as there was no body to place beneath it, but it was something that let her know someone remembered him. Something far enough away to not disturb her new friends and something she could come back to so she could remember the times she'd had with him. Those times that were separate from her current life.

Divine would have most likely disapproved of this.

But she didn't care. This was what she wanted. And her new life was supposed to be about striving for what she thought she should do, right?

Aki sat there for hours without paying any heed to when she should go back. The sun would be setting soon and she had foolishly taken out of consideration how long it had taken her to walk here. She'd have to retrace most of her steps in the dark.

This had been worth it though. She'd needed this time.

Almost as if on cue the whir of an engine came to a halt. She rose from where she sat, turning to face the person who had interrupted her time with her memories.

The rider took off his helmet, letting his unusually tall red hair spring back into place.

Crow.

"You shouldn't have followed me," she called over.

Was she annoyed that he had disturbed her or annoyed because it hadn't been Yuusei who had come to find her?

"You've been away for ages, I was starting to worry," he said back, starting to walk over.

Still frowning, Aki replied, "I'm capable of taking care of myself. I don't need you all to worry so much about me."

"Of course," Crow sighed, "But it's getting late. Would you like me to give you a lift back or would that be interrupting your independence?"

She didn't give him a verbal answer, passing him to head towards the D-Wheel and taking out the spare helmet.

While she did this Crow was examining the little mound with the roses.

"What's this?"

"Don't tell the others!" she shot, turning to face him, then calming herself, "Please… This is something that I want to have to myself."

He nodded. The nod symbolising his promise. Maybe he knew what she'd been doing out here and maybe he didn't, but regardless he would keep it to himself if that was what she wanted.

"Let's get back then," he settled on, returning the helmet to his head and sitting back on the D-Wheel.

She took to the seat behind him, placing her arms around his waist for support. Though she hated it, Aki still wasn't as confident on D-Wheels as she'd like to be.

He didn't seem to complain, starting up the engine and taking them back towards the city. Giving Aki enough time to take one last look at her fake grave of Divine.

They never spoke of it after that. Crow never told her how he'd known where to find her or how long he'd been looking. He didn't even mention if the others had noticed she was gone, though they all seemed glad to see her come back.

Most importantly he never spoke to her about what she had been doing.

Part of her still didn't feel comfortable talking about her time in the Arcadia Movement; regardless of how much more Crow seemed to be trying to look after her lately. She was independent now, or so she liked to believe, but she did appreciate his growing concern.

However Divine was hers to remember but not to share.

He was gone.

He was not forgotten.

He would always be hers.