She had been a little angel. She had been their little angel. She had been like a sister to them, and now... she was gone. They had failed to protect her. And now they would never get to see her beautiful smile or hear her kind voice ever again. They had failed her in every way possible. It should have been obvious. From the moment that monstrous man, Shou Tucker had invited them in, it should have been obvious. So obvious. And yet, here they were, mourning the death of a sweet, little girl whom they had come to care about. She was one to the world and there was nothing they could do about it.
The two brothers stood in front of the newly dug grave. Rain pounded down hard on their backs. One brother stared at the stone before them, his glowing red eyes wavering as if he was crying. He couldn't feel the rain that poured down upon them. Nor could he feel the wind that blew against them. He was stuck in an unfeeling metal shell. He shouldn't feel a single thing. And yet, nothing could fill the emptiness he felt inside him. His armor shook with silent sobs, but no tears fell. He couldn't cry in this body. But right now, that was okay. The sky was crying for him, as if the world was mourning with them. They cried for the loss of an innocent child, who had had her life ripped away from her.
The other brother stood with his shoulders hunched. He was also staring down at the small stone that lay in front of them. His eyes glistened with tears that he refused to let fall. He had no right to cry. He had failed to save the little angel. He had failed to protect her, and now she was dead. It was all his fault. And so, here he stood, staring unseeingly at a gravestone, shaking like a leaf, and hoping that if he looked back, he would see the little girl they had come to adore, standing there with them. He wanted to see her wide, happy smile. He wanted to see her bright eyes dazzling with childish happiness and curiousity. He wanted to see her two braids trailing behind her as she ran to them. He wanted her to be here. He wanted to hold her tiny body in his arms and tell her it would be alright. That she would be alright and that her Big Brother was there to keep her safe from the world. But she wasn't alright. She was dead. The cold truth felt like a slap to the face and he desperately wanted the pain to go away. His heart hurt. He knew it woul always hurt. And so he looked up at the sky and finally let his tears fall soundlessly down his cheeks, masked by the falling rain.
The two brothers slowly walked away, glancing back at the muddy grave before they left. The words on the gravestone were forever blazed into their minds. The memory of a little angel, smiling brightly at them, her eyes sparkling with excitement. It wasn't a sad memory. It would never be a sad memory if they could see her. They would carry her memory, her story, her life, forever. They would honor her, until the day they too died. Until the day they would see her again. Their Little Angel.