The usual copyright BS. I don't own Animorphs and I ain't makin any money off this.

~The Last Ronin~

The thermals are spectacular today and I'm grateful for them. The sad truth is that I'm not nearly as young as I once was and flying is becoming more and more difficult each day. In a small corner of my mind I realize that I'm dying. But I don't mind. Death is a part of life. The hawk in me, if it doesn't exactly understand, accepts that. The boy though, if that term even applies anymore, is nervous.

Almost all humans fear death. I suppose it's because we're capable of thinking about the concept and that we don't know what comes after it happens. I hope there is something after though, then maybe I'll be able to see Rachel again. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want to die. I feel, restless I suppose is the word. Restless because I feel as if I'm not ready...as if there's still something I have to do.

It's silly really. I've wanted to die for a long time now; ever since I lost Rachel. Now that it's almost here though, why am I suddenly nervous?

Perhaps it's because, unlike most people, I have another option. I could morph something else. I could once again trap myself in another, younger, form. Ironic to be considering this now when the one person I would have done this for is long since dead.

What would I do if I did it though? I haven't spoken to another human in years, let alone anyone who would know me. I suppose I could go Andalite, though I doubt Ax would have time to introduce me to his world. Assuming he's still alive of course. It's been just as long since I heard from him as it has been any of the others. That had been my choice though. If I'd wanted to I could have gotten in touch with any of them easily.

But no. If I trapped myself as anything it would have to be human. Rachel had always wanted me to do that - so we could be together. Maybe it's to late for the later part now but perhaps I should honor the first part of her wish.

I mentally sigh as the trees give way to a small cliff overlooking the ocean. At the tallest point is a stone monument I'm very familiar with.

Rachel's memorial.

It's well maintained, even after fourteen years. Flowers and paper lanterns still adorn its base. Some of them, I know, are from the others. They all have standing orders with some flower shop or other that get replaced every few weeks. I've never brought any though - she was never really a flowers kind of girl.

There's people here now, paying their respects despite the fact that it's public knowledge that Rachel's ashes aren't here. I'm the only one who knows where they are. I've kept them safe all these years. I should return them to her family before I...if I decide to die.

The group down there now looks like it's a family: two adults, three kids. Only thing missing is the family dog. The oldest - or at least tallest - looking kid looks up, shielding her eyes and squinting. She spots me and her mouth twists up into a grin.

A chill runs through me and I look away. That grin...that grin looks almost like Rachel's. I smack myself mentally. It's been a very long time since I saw that expression and I've been thinking of her a lot today. Of course I'm seeing her in every blond haired, blue eyed, teenage girl wandering around.

I circle a bit, preparing to land. Out of the corner of my eye I see the girl tugging on her father's sleeve and pointing at me. Just some kid excited to see a big bird, that's all. Nothing for me to worry about. I drop into the trees and begin to morph after I'm sure there's no one around. There's no real reason for me to be careful although anyone who sees me and has a gun handy might decide to shoot first and figure out what I am later.

The world dims and quiets as I become human once more. It takes a little longer than it did during the war. I morph all of once a year now, on the anniversary of Rachel's death, so I'm more than a little out of practice. Still, the changes come and soon I'm tottering on my human legs and squinting with my weak human eyes.

Slowly I push through the bushes and step out onto the path leading up to the monument. I approach and drop down onto the grass in front of it. As always, my eyes take in her name and the words meant to honor her, though I can recite it all from memory. They praise her for her deeds. Thank her for her sacrifice.

She would have loved it. Not that she ever would have admitted that. But she would have soaked it all up like a Yeerk bathing in Kandrona rays.

A few tears trickle down my cheeks as I finish reading. I don't cry for her as much as I used to. Partly because the pain doesn't hurt so much anymore or, rather, maybe it still hurts as much but I've just become numb to it. And part of the reason I don't cry as much is that she wouldn't want me to.

Someone sits down next to me and I jump. I hadn't heard them approaching. I look over and for a moment my mind is convinced that it's Rachel sitting next to me. A shake of my head dispels the illusion though.

Although, at a glance, this girl looks disturbingly similar to my friend, a closer look causes that resemblance to blur; like looking at a poorly focused photograph. This girl is younger than Rachel had been...closer to the age we were that night in the construction site. Her hair is a bit darker and slightly curly while her eyes are the wrong color. Rachel's eyes had been the blue of the ocean. This girl's eyes are the blue of ice.

"You're that hawk," the girl says and for the second time I jump. First for the reason that she seems to know I'm in morph. But mostly because her voice is Rachel's down to the self- mocking tone that infused her voice when she was happy.

"What?" I try to make my face show confusion but I don't think it works. Less than twenty-eight hours as a human over the past fourteen years isn't even close to enough for me to remember how to make facial expressions.

"You're that hawk," she repeats and points into the air. Ah, now I get it, she's the girl who spotted me earlier.

"I, what makes you say that?" I need to get away. If she knows then...I shake my head. No. The war is over and I don't really have to hide. So what if she knows?

"A real hawk wouldn't have landed with my family around," she grins and my heart stops again - there's no mistaking it now, that's Rachel's grin.

"Okay fine, I'm a hawk. Is there something wrong with that?" I ask, curious that she's not freaked out by this knowledge.

"My spirit guide is a hawk," she explains, clarifying nothing, "and do I know you that you're staring like that?"

"I'm sorry," I look away for a moment but my gaze is quickly drawn back to her face, "I don't really remember how to make human expressions anymore, but you also look somewhat like a friend of mine...and you sound exactly like her. Sorry."

"You're friend is also a hawk?" she looks at me, her expression puzzled.

"No," I laugh quietly, "she was many things but not a hawk. She's gone now though."

"Oh," the wind picks up and, for a moment, my eye catches movement in the trees but when I look over nothing is there, "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"It's a long story and I don't have time to tell it," I laugh again and stand. She stands as well, brushing off the seat of her pants. My two hours are nearly up. Time to head home.

"Can I see you again?" she asks as I turn to leave.

"No," I sigh, "probably not."

"Oh," her eyes drop and she frowns.

"It was nice to meet you," I walk into the trees before she can answer. Once I'm far enough away I morph.

Back in the air I head for home. I'm more than a little disturbed by what just happened. Why had I talked with her like that? Usually I just made an excuse and left if someone approached me. But something about that girl had stopped me. Maybe it was her voice or how similar she looked to... No, that can't be it. What I'd felt for Rachel ran beyond simple physical attraction so there's no way that could be the reason I stayed.

I mentally laugh. Here I am trying to figure out that girl and I didn't even get her name. But it doesn't really matter. Speaking with her helped me realize exactly how much I miss my friend. I've made up my mind. I'm ready to die.

x-x-x-x-x

"Well?" my father emerges from the trees, his hair a little more messy than usual. He'd changed to keep an eye on me while I talked with that boy. I shake my head, I hadn't even gotten his name.

"I don't know," I shake my head again. My father's more of a believer in all this spiritual stuff but for some reason it's my mother I want to talk to right now, "I feel like I know him though."

My father nods, the wind making even more of a mess of his hair. He understands. Those of us with spirit guides are able to recognize them in their physical forms if we meet them. I'm certain that boy was my guide.

I inhale deeply, picking up the scents of my family. My mother and my two brothers are nearby. They'll be along soon.

Growing up my father had made sure I knew that I'd been named for a hero. Despite that though I know very little about the young woman who died saving our planet from an alien invasion. My father certainly hadn't known her. His dreams had told him I was to be named for her though he hadn't done exactly as his dreams had wished.

I'd read everything I could find about her but, considering she saved the world, there was surprisingly little. Her cousin had written a book but it was less informative and more him moaning about how he'd gotten her killed.

She had been a warrior though, and very brave. Everything I'd read agreed on those two facts. It wasn't much but still it was somewhat comforting to know even that little.

I take another deep breath, searching for a particular scent I know must be here. It doesn't take long to find it but it does take me a couple of minutes to realize what it is. Human-like but off somehow. The smell is almost too clean, as if it's owner had been dipped in an odorless, odor-erasing chemical.

Without a word I follow it into the woods where the boy-who-was-a-hawk had disappeared. He hadn't gone far according to my nose and the trail abruptly vanishes. Not vanishes actually, changes. The odd smell of the boy is replaced by a much different one. Wind and bark with a bit of blood and grass. I smile as I find it, a feeling of familiarity washing over me.

"What are you doing?" my father's voice calls from behind me. There's no way he doesn't know what I'm doing but adults tend to ask questions just to see if you'll answer, not because they need one.

"Getting that hawk's scent in case I run across him again," I reply, looking back to find the rest of my family watching. My parents look at each other and my mother gives a slight shake of her head. They do this all the time but it's still kinda creepy how they seemingly have entire conversations without actually speaking. Maybe it's a pack alpha thing.

They turn to go, each holding onto one of my brothers. I follow, but my mind is already working out my plan for later. I don't know why exactly, but I want to see that boy again.