Pairing: K2
Rating: K+


Overhead, the leaves from the maple tree blotched out the sky with tiny patches of orange, yellow, and red that made it seem like the tree was on fire. Like the sky itself, so crisp and blue with August, had been turned into an inferno of cold fire.

Crimson and violet tulips, with the occasionally white lily, sprung up in sweet little bouquets, adding not only more beauty but the faint perfume of their mixed scents. Tamed ferns, clipped back to a comfortable length, circled the base of the maple and lead down, like some leafy wall, to a cooing creek.

A zephyr played around, as alive as any air jinni from some imagined myth, and it wove its mischievous fingers through Kyle's soft auburn curls, ruffling them like Kenny had a tendency to do.

All of it seemed too perfect for reality. The colors too red or green or violet; even the crystal-clear waters of the creek were so sharp that it shone with a color Kyle couldn't name. The land felt too soft underneath him, the moss more like pillows than a spongy plant. Everything was too. . .amazing. Wonderful. Meticulously pristine.

Something, like the teasing jinni, that had to be imagined up.

And Kyle had no trouble believing it, not for one hesitating second, that he was just daydreaming this pretty place up. That it all was a side effect of his overactive mind.

Until he heard thunder roll in the distance, disturbing the perfection of this place.

Then he noticed that it wasn't as perfect as he thought. It wasn't as bright or comfortable (his legs were numb from sitting) or gorgeous. He noticed, with a shock, the headstone looming in front of him like a rift of imperfection in his perfect little world.

The nice, pleasant-fake-serine that had settled over him, vanished. He was in the cemetery. Sitting in front of Kenny's grave, still dressed up in his black slacks and black over jacket from the funeral the day before. And the day-old anguish washed over him again, so strong he had to shut his eyes and wish, wish, wish all over again that Kenny's death had just been a part of that goddamn over imagination too.