Disclaimer: Klonoa and Guntz do not belong to me. I really should stop writing this stuff. People are getting sick of me.

Author's Note: This is another depressing one. The previous one sucked so much it was unbelievable. I might delete that one. This story is set at the end of Heroes, when the Heroes go their own way. In the ending credits Guntz is seen leaving the trio in Volk City, but this is my interpretation of things.

I need con-crit. And I really haven't been well lately. I go back to school tomorrow. Try to enjoy the un-slashy fic that is still slash.

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"I guess this is goodbye, then."

Guntz stared at the young cabbit for a long time, blue eyes fixed on his face. Even after he'd said that - said goodbye - he couldn't quite bring himself to leave this place. They were alone, the great golden bell next to them shining in the last of the sun, the evening breeze ruffling their fur. Pango had gone down to say a brief hello to the Breezegale residents, and to explain what had happened. Klonoa was home. And as for him... well, that was another matter.

Klonoa's head was bent, one hand clutching the small golden ring, looking down. It was as if he felt afraid to look at the hunter, and was trying desperately to avoid his gaze. Guntz noticed this all too well, but just kept on looking at him.

"Do you really have to go?" Klonoa whispered, looking up at last. Tears shone in his eyes. Guntz felt something lurch inside him at the look - he did not want to leave Breezegale. Amidst the chaos of Lunatea this was the most peaceful village he'd ever seen, and he wanted to stay, among the calm, quiet residents who knew little of him. They would accept him. But he also knew that he could never stay for too long anywhere, for he had a lot of enemies. And he didn't want to bring danger to Breezegale.

Strange to think... he cared now.

As a mature teenager who had been in the bounty hunting business for years, Guntz always lived one step closer to death. Every day was one day nearer to dying. At the end of the day, it was one day less to live, and that was all. He'd long ago given up feeling fear. It did so little for him. Since he was ten, he'd learned to press the impending feeling of doom to the back of his mind, tucked away carefully, while all that was left was nothing. Blankness would not interfere with his work. But as he stared at the young cabbit, who seemed so reluctant to let him go, seemed worried about letting him back into this dangerous world of Lunatea, he felt his fear coming back. He did not want to danger this safe place, he did not want to put Klonoa in mortal peril - Janga had been only one, if greatest, of his many enemies. He knew the youth would never understand. But danger in this last safe place was the last thing he wanted, and for Breezegale's own safety - Klonoa's safety - he had to go.

"I must leave." He finally said, and turned away, his gloved hands reaching for the handlebars. He lightly swung a leg over the Red Clan, checking its engines, and patted it absent-mindedly. His fear seemed to increase with every second, and he was eager to get away, knowing that once he was off into the forest the feeling would disappear. He felt uncomfortable, staggering under the weight of his fear, but nonetheless he was going to try to hide it in front of the cabbit. "Goodbye." He called, his voice still gentle, still soft enough for Klonoa to notice the change in him.

"Guntz!" But Klonoa wouldn't give in; Guntz turned towards the cabbit, and then suddenly the young boy was in front of him, blocking the way with his body. "Please... please don't leave, Guntz! It's too dangerous for you out there. Stay with me. I live in the red hut over there-" Guntz looked down. It was a rather large hut, with a red roof, and with the number fourteen painted on the door in small letters. Guntz had perfect eyesight and could pick out the details quite well. "-and... I don't want you to go." Klonoa looked up, desperate. "Stay with me. Please. Nowhere else in Lunatea is safe."

"And neither will this place, once I reside in it." Guntz replied, the words coming out colder and sharper than intended. "Move aside."

"What?" Klonoa stared. "No! What do you mean by that? Breezegale is practically unknown! You'll be safe here!" His word faltered for a moment. "I... I want to protect you!"

"Protect me?" Guntz asked, sounding annoyed. "Just move aside. I'm not worth protecting."

Klonoa said nothing. His eyes were staring into Guntz's, confusion and sadness etched into them, searching for an answer that the hunter didn't have. "You're wrong." He whispered. "You do deserve to be protected. You deserve so much more than what you have, Guntz. Please stay. I don't want you to go."

"I have to." Guntz, as hotheaded and impatient as always, started up the engines. "Move, Klonoa! I'll run you over if I have to! Move over right now!"

"You won't do that, Guntz." Klonoa whispered. He didn't budge. "I know you won't do that. You've known me for over a month now. I know you won't kill me."

The hunter was rendered temporarily speechless. He looked at Klonoa, and the cabbit looked back, and neither moved. His hands clenched on the handlebars. "I'm a bounty hunter," He snarled softly. "You know that."

"But you're not a killer." The cabbit replied softly.

"Which makes no sense!" Guntz finally shouted, losing his temper. "What kind of a hunter would anyone make if he does not know how to kill? You're only hindering me, Klonoa, and I have no time for this! Now go and leave me! I'm going and you can't stop me doing it!"

"You don't enjoy killing, Guntz. I know you don't." Klonoa held out his arms, making himself an easy target. "I'm going to stop you no matter what you say. Shoot me if you will, but I'm not moving from this place." The hunter had a sudden, violent urge to strangle this boy, and his hands clenched tightly on the handlebars. But then his grip loosened, and he turned off the engine, staring at the cabbit's face and trying to comprehend what was going on in his mind.

"I don't understand you." He said finally. "Why're you so eager to protect me? What'll you gain from it? I'll only endanger this village."

"You won't endanger anyone, Guntz." Klonoa replied. "You're a good guy. You've never put me, Pango or Lolo in danger."

"You talk nonsense." The hunter sneered. "You don't know what I have done before. You don't know anything about me. If I stay I'll just be a nuisance. Leave me be and just-" His voice faltered, and he closed his eyes, clutching his head. "-just... stop. Let me go my way." Klonoa said nothing. The boy's ineffable calmness further infuriated the hunter, and he looked up again, shaking with fear and irrational fury. "Damn it, what do you want of me?"

"I don't want anything. Just that you stay with me here."

"God-damnit, Klonoa, stop it! If you don't want anything, just let me go! I have nothing to give!"

"I only want to save you, Guntz." The cabbit looked exhausted, looking up at him with amber eyes. "You don't deserve to go out and get yourself killed. You're one of Goddess Claire's finest creations, Guntz; I want you to be safe away from harm."

For the second time that afternoon, Guntz was speechless. He just stayed sitting on the Red Clan, staring with confused blue eyes, his lips unmoving. He could not express himself anymore, and he just didn't know what to say. When he had gained some hold over his conscience and mind, he hissed softly out of the corner of his mouth: "What do you mean by that?"

Klonoa smiled again, his amber eyes twinkling. "It seems you're not too eager to escape after all." He came around to stand next to the Red Clan, smiling softly. "You already know what I'm talking about, Guntz. Look at yourself through my eyes. Or anyone else's. You're devoted, chaste, unbending, loyal and pure. You're one to be admired above all the others."

"Admired?" Guntz snarled. "Oh yes, in your dreams! No one in god-damn Lunatea admires me, Klonoa! You know nothing of what others think of me! 'There goes Guntz the Bounty Hunter,' They say. 'The unfeeling cold bastard. He doesn't care about anything.' They call me, and say I have a heart of stone. One of them could cut my throat, and the others would go 'Don't bleed to death now, Guntz, you mean bastard, now you'll get us into trouble with the cops'." He stopped, and bit his lip lightly, quiet after his sudden outburst. Klonoa looked stunned, and he seemed to have backed away very slightly, but he was still standing.

"They fear and hate me more than the Devil himself." Guntz continued, his voice quiet and subdued. "You're wrong, Klonoa. No one admires me. You're a fool to think otherwise."

"I do." Klonoa said softly. "Call me a fool, Guntz, if you feel that way. But I admire you."

It had begun to rain. The last of the sun was fading over the hills, and the sky was dark with clouds, the raindrops falling to the ground. Klonoa stood still in the sudden downpour, while Guntz flinched at the cold raindrops hitting his fur. The water ran over their faces, dripping to the ground, but neither of them looked away from another.

"What does all that matter to you?" Guntz finally spoke, his voice hushed. "Your life is forfeit if you do. They'll never leave anyone here in peace."

"But it's worth every bit to me." Klonoa replied. "You're so much better than I am, Guntz. I admire you for everything."

"Klonoa... listen - to - me." Guntz grabbed the young boy by his shoulders, stepping away from the Red Clan, wrenching them still closer until their noses were almost touching. "I am not the better one! I have done nothing, absolutely nothing with my life!"

"Guntz, look at the work you have done-"

"Work!" Guntz released his grip on Klonoa and clutched his head; he actually looked quite deranged. "Oh yes, I almost forgot about my work. My god-damned work! Yes, I have my work, what I've been doing so far just so I could get revenge and kill Janga, but what do I have now? He's dead!" He spat out, every syllable punctuated with hate. "I have nothing left now. No friends, family or happiness. I might as well just die right here, now that I have so little! No, bounty hunting is no work, Klonoa, and you'll - you'll never understand!" He turned away, breathing heavily, and his shoulders shaking with unconcealed grief.

It had always been abstract to the hunter that his revenge would leave him so empty. But now he was here, among the raindrops, and he realized fully just how pointless everything had been, how he had built his life in a foundation of lies and death. He'd done it all... for nothing.

"Guntz..." Klonoa was holding him from behind, his arms wrapping around the cold, wet body of the hunter. "I never..."

"Look what you've done with your life even though you're way younger than I am." Guntz spoke quietly. "My so-called work, the memory of people I've killed is all I have. And look at you. You've saved Lunatea... went and fetched Lolo back safely... gave us all hope and banished away Nahatomb... I've helped nobody but myself in my life. Yet you..." He turned around and knelt, fingering the golden Hero medal on the boy's chest.

"You, Klonoa, are a saint." He whispered. And there was silence.

Guntz went and sat down heavily on the seat of the motorcycle, staring blankly ahead. He was sitting sideways, which meant he was facing away from the handlebars, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was to close his eyes, curl up and die. The whole world was pointless to him. Nothing made sense. Klonoa was next to him, looking at him with sadness, noticing the tears running down Guntz's face even through the rain. He slipped one hand into the hunter's gold-and black mane, pushing the soft fur aside, and felt for the Hero medal. It was there, shining golden, twinkling in the light of the moon.

"You have yours here, Guntz." He said softly. "This is just one of the many things you have done." Guntz looked up, the faint light of the golden medal noticed, and looked at Klonoa.

"It's beautiful, Guntz." Klonoa whispered, his face close. "You're beautiful." He leaned forwards slightly, delicately touching his lips with the hunter's. Guntz didn't resist, and let the cabbit do what he wanted. The rain fell still heavier, their fur getting wetter. But neither noticed, lost in the kiss, wrapped around each other in blissful silence.

They pulled away after about a minute or so. " May Goddess Claire be with you." Klonoa whispered, tracing the contours of Guntz's face.

"And with you also." Guntz replied, knowing the full Lunatean custom. Then his expression hardened again. "This changes nothing, Klonoa. I still have to leave. I do not intend to let anyone get in the way, even if you're the one."

"I know." Klonoa replied sadly. "I knew from the moment you turned to go that you would never stay. But I wanted to stop you nonetheless..." He trailed off briefly. "I couldn't expect you to stay with me here."

"You'll miss me?" There was no answer. "You said the hut with the red roof."

"That's right. Number fourteen." Klonoa answered, his voice still sad. "In case you should change your mind."

Guntz's piercing gaze lingered on Klonoa again for a long time, sapphire eyes meeting amber ones, and then he turned away. The engines started, and he drove off.

He never looked back.

Klonoa watched him leave, his heart heavy. "That's right, you idiot." He muttered, wiping his eyes. "I'll miss you. Even though you're such a fool."

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"Where's Guntz?" Pango asked, as the cabbit trudged down the Bell's Hill alone.

"He left." Klonoa answered simply.

And that was that.

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Depressing stuff. My skills at writing sweet kiss scenes are breaking down. I'm losing my touch to my works.

Damn.

Klonoa's older in this one. I'd say he's around fourteen years old here. I usually write him around twelve-thirteen years old. Guntz is still sixteen and irrationally angry.

-This story was finished 2nd of September, in the year 2007.-