He doesn't like to think about it.

But he does.

Stretching out a hand to touch the wall, he wonders…"How did it all go wrong? Why…?"

The cold stone of the wall reminds him. It was cold that night…cold, windy and…it was snowing.

Without his consent, the memory plays in his head.

-January, 2 Years Ago-

"Heeeeeeey, how's it going? I haven't seen you in a while," rang out the cheerful voice of Sain.

"I suppose, if you call 'a while' about 10 minutes ago," said Kent, sighing.

"Jeez, you don't have to be so cold. I get enough of that from the weather."

"Do you?"

"Well, yeah. Have you not noticed how cold it is? Especially around here."

"I try not to think about it."

"See, that's your problem…"

Great. Another lecture. It sounded almost funny coming from him, who usually had the exact same problem.

"…You never bother to think about things. Someday that'll be the death of you. You won't be paying attention because you won't be thinking about something, and then that something will come up and you'll die. And…I don't want that to happen to you."

That had never come up before.

"Alright…so let's say something did happen. Let's say I'm dead. Why should you care?"

"Because we're friends! Aren't we?"

"Yes, we are…"

And then that "something" happened.

Several villagers ran by in a crowd. "It's the Black Fang; they've come to kill us!" screamed a woman.

"Miss, please calm down, now tell me what happened."

"Just as I said, the Black Fang…" She broke free from Sain's strong grip. "I have to run! I don't want to—"

She was run through by a sword.

And moments later, so was Sain.

The Fang member looked down at the corpses and said rather sarcastically, "Oops."

Within moments, he had joined the corpses on the ground. He, however, was in much worse shape.

Wil ran over. "What just happened? Is everyone…" He looked down. "Oh my…" He choked. "Should I go get Serr—"

"It's no use."

Wil looked up at him, shocked at the ice in his voice. "No…use?" He smiled weakly. "You're kidding…right?"

"I never joke on the battlefield."

Wil flinched. "Well, I'll go…somewhere…to leave you…alone…you know?" There was silence. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be."

"But—"

With as much evenness in is voice as he could muster, Kent said, "He wasn't paying attention to what was going on. He was talking to me, and then that woman—" He pointed at her body. "That woman ran by, and he asked what was wrong, and then…" He took a breath to steady himself. "And then they were dead."

Wil looked down again. "Well, I'll…see you later…I guess…" He started to walk away, and added quietly, "I hope."

Kent knelt down. "Well, Sain, you've accomplished your life's goal, I suppose. You've finally gotten me to show 'real emotion'…and you died next to a woman." He smiled despite himself. "I would be lying if I said that I didn't care…"

The rest of the group found him half an hour later, still there, crying. Florina made a move to comfort him, but Rath stopped her. "He needs to be alone…"

Lyn looked at the group. "We should go back to the inn. Kent will join us when it's time."

They all left, but Wil lingered a moment, to look back on Kent. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Then he, too, trudged up the snow-covered hill.

-End Flashback-

Since then, Nergal had been killed, and it seemed all was safe again. Nobody was really different after the battle. They only changed when someone they cared for died.

It had started with Sain, but had later evolved to other people, as well.

Rath had died protecting Lyn.

Dart died to save Rebecca.

Louise was caught in accidental friendly fire.

Hawkeye was slain by the dragon.

Matthew had committed suicide soon after Leila died.

Lucius had a run-in with Sonia.

Karel miscalculated a thrust and ended up with several spears in his back.

Vaida was reckless and, well, the enemy archers had never had such a good time.

Fiora gave her life for Eliwood.

But none of these deaths had been quite as horrible as Sain's for one simple reason. They'd known there was a possibility of dying. Sain had no idea. Nobody did.

As for Kent, he didn't ever speak again after the night they buried his friend. The next two winters he spent in an almost lifeless state. Whenever it started to snow, he'd tense up and refuse to eat.

Wil blamed himself for the whole thing. The only thing he told himself whenever he thought of the incident was, "I was in the area; why didn't I move fast enough?"

He never spoke to Kent again because of this. He was afraid of how the cavalier would react. The fact was, Kent didn't blame Wil. But since they never talked, Wil had no way of knowing this. Little did anyone know that later, because of this burden, Wil would move out to the wastelands to live out a life "fitting for a murderer." For that is what he considered himself. A murderer.

Kent lived alone after that in a little stone house. Whenever winter came, instead of going outside to enjoy the scenery, he barred his windows and didn't leave. The one time he did, the snow was stained red, just like that day. Or that's what he thought. It was just his memory playing tricks on him.

But still, he took no chances.

He doesn't like to think about that night.

But he does.

Almost every night, he experiences Sain's death over and over again.

And he wishes for his own.

The day he dies, Kent's only last request is this:

"Please don't hate me."