"Shigure!" Ayame gasped as he ran to the dog's side. He panted, half bent, and one pale hand clutched at Shigure's sleeve desperately. Shigure held Ayame's elbows, his brows knit in worry.

"Aya? What's wrong?" He asked seriously. Ayame lifted his head, his golden eyes meeting his friends dark chocolate ones.

"Kana's gone." Ayame said softly, his voice quivering slightly. Shigure's eyes widened.

"What… what do you mean?"

Aya shook his head, still panting from his run.

"Shigure… they- Hatori erased her memory. She's gone." Ayame leaned in close to Shigure, resting his forehead against his friend's chest. He could hear Shigure's steady heartbeat, steady and strong. Shigure wrapped his arms around Aya gently.

"It was only a matter of time." He said, his voice cool and knowing. Aya couldn't repress the shudder that ran through him. Shigure had always been scary when he was serious.

"'Tori-kun… he needs us." Ayame murmured into Shigure's shoulder, struggling to stay calm; to not cry. Shigure made a sound of assent, and it rumbled for a moment in his chest.

Together they walked to Hatori's home, not speaking, not looking at each other. Ayame was preparing himself to comfort Hatori; Shigure was smiling grimly. After all, he'd expected this. He'd seen it coming. It had only been a matter of time.

They arrived at Hatori's door, and Ayame knocked sharply.

"Hatori?" he called. There was no answer. Aya looked at Shigure, concerned. Shigure frowned slightly. He too knocked, louder this time.

"Haa-san, let us in." he said. Still, there was no response. Aya stepped forward again.

"'Tori-kun? Can… can we come in? Please?" he pleaded through the door. When there was still no response, Ayame clutched his hands worriedly. Shigure sighed.

"Haa-san, open the door, before I break it down." He said.

The door opened, albeit only by a crack.

"…"

"'Tori-kun?"

"Go away."

"No." Shigure said sweetly, before pushing his way in. Normally, Hatori could have easily held him back. The very fact that he put up no struggle worried Shigure and Ayame even more.

They stepped into the darkened home. All the curtains were drawn, all the lights were out. It was stuffy, and the air hung with a choking depression. Shigure followed the sounds of Hatori's footsteps deeper into the house, Aya right behind him.

They stopped in what seemed to be a living room. Hatori simply laid down on the couch, face down. His arms dangled listlessly.

"You're being stupid, Hatori." Shigure said bluntly. Ayame winced; Shigure never was very good at being tactful. Shigure wasn't done yet, though.

"Kana's gone. It didn't work. That's okay. It hurts, but it's okay. You're not dead yet."

Hatori sat up. He was shaking.

"You didn't know her." He whispered bitterly. "I loved her. I hurt her, and now she's gone. It's over. It's all over."

Ayame sat down beside him. Hatori continued as though he hadn't noticed.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't. It hurts too much. I want to die. I don't want to be alone again; I want to die."

Shigure said nothing. Ayame did.

"'Tori-kun, you aren't alone. Gure-san and I are here, aren't we? We haven't left you. We never will."

Hatori shook his head slowly.

"It's not the same. It's not. I miss her. I miss touching her, kissing her, waking up with her beside me. I miss having someone who loved me." He gasped, tears pouring down his face. He shook harder, and he brought his hand to his face.

Ayame hugged Hatori. He held Hatori and rocked him gently from side to side as his friend sobbed.

"We love you, Hatori. We love you so much." He repeated over and over. Shigure sat down too, on Hatori's other side. Ayame stopped rocking the dragon, and Shigure took Hatori's chin in his hand. He turned the man to face him, and softly kissed his eyelid.

"We love you, Haa-san. We love you more than anyone, and we always will." He whispered against Hatori's skin. Hatori choked, and clung to his friends desperately.

"It hurts. It hurts so much." He gasped. Ayame kissed his neck gently.

"We know. We're sorry." He said.

They sat there for hours. The three of them, holding each other, whispering comfort to the one who needed it most. They reminded him that he was loved, forever and always, unconditionally.

He was loved.