A/N: This part is up due to popular demand. It's kind of hard to explain, but you'll get it. Once again, angst, yaoi and character death.

***

I watched you, that day. The way you walked slowly and sombrely to that perfect cube stone and laid down that single sheet of paper beside the flowers that you change and clean every week.

Hell, I've always watched you; it was always so hard to take my eyes off of your form. The years have been so kind to you, Ray. You have aged with as much grace as is possible, as will ever be possible. You had always been beautiful, but now you are just heavenly. Your face is flawless; it shows everything you have gone through in your life, all the wins and loses. It shows the happiness you experienced, and it shows the grief, most of which I know I caused.

Gods, I never deserved you Ray. You were always too good for me. Just the thought, the very notion that I could cause you such pain tears me apart. I know how you think, and I don't even have to examine the letter you have laid down to know what it says, but I do anyway, and I see you stumble back a step. Your golden eyes widening as what appears to you as a breeze blows open the carefully folded paper.

As I finish reading the thoughts you have kept bottled up inside for so long, my heart strains against my chest. Had I truly been so cowardly? Had I really sacrificed myself for nothing but pain for you? I look back up at you, seeing your wonderful eyes trained on the white square that was covered in your elegant handwriting. I look around the small field ridden by carefully cut and engraved rock.

I have always hated graveyards, the cold uniformity of it all. Death scared me, forming part of my dislike for the storage area of the dead. Anyone I had ever cared for had died: my parents had left me when I was only a child; three of my grandparents, leaving me to that monster Voltaire; and in the end myself. I had never known that it would be like this, like it was everyone else who was gone and not me.

"Kai." I hear you whisper that one word, and let my eyes wonder back to you. It's as if you are looking right at me, into my eyes, even though you can't see me. I bite my lip as you sink to your knees in the thin grass and sob. I know I can do nothing but hold you, even though you won't notice, only feel an icy breeze blow past your shoulders, playing with that scarf. Like you said, sometimes you think you feel my lips brushing gently over your cheek, but you know it's just your imagination. I can honestly say that it's not, I will always be there. I will always be with you, my love. When your time comes, I will be here to take you away from this plain. I am both eagerly waiting that day and hoping it will never come.

I want to squeeze you, to let you know that I'm here with you. I want to kiss you, to tell you everything is all right. Over the many years I have been gone, I have missed you more than anything. Your touch was always enough to drive me wild, and now missing it is driving me crazy.

"I miss you so damned much." You whisper hoarsely to the breeze, running your finger gently over the carefully engraved words on that rock. I remember how everyone added to the memorial, Kenny, Max, Tyson, how Mr Dickenson fought so hard to keep my grandfather away from this spot. What matters the most to me, though, is what you added. Whenever I follow you here, I read the words that make my lips tingle from that very last kiss we shared.

You knew how much I hate these places, so you fought to have my memorial put elsewhere, even though you failed in the end. You tried, and that's more than I did. I'm nothing but a coward, Ray; you still don't see that. It's hard to criticise the dead, I suppose. Yet, how can you call me brave? I took the easy way out. You had always been the brave one, Itooshi*, if I were you I would have given up long ago.

You finally stand up, drying your eyes on the end of the scarf. Oh, how I wish I was that scarf. You bow to my memorial before turning to leave. I stay for a moment, my eyes lingering on the words that let strangers know I existed before I follow you.

***

*Beloved

A/N: I don't know what the Japanese do at funerals or anything, so I just went with what I knew. So, please review so that I know typing this up wasn't a total waste of time.