The lint of love.
The title for this fic is taken from the 31 Days theme for October 27, 2007, and it has Gen-centric spoilers all over! Beware!
The scent of fresh laundry makes Atora remember him: it's a clean, fresh smell, with just a hint of something floral or something citrus or something sharp and named for this-and-that body of water. Odd, how one can bring one's self to remember the dead by smell, but it somehow works because it's Gen she is thinking about. He was never any good at taking care of himself, and his clothes were no exception. She has long lost count of the number of times she'd scold him over a needle and some thread, speaking of costs and time and effort as she replaces yet another sleeve for the umpteenth time. As he got stronger, however, she began being grateful for the fact that it was the sleeve she lost and not his arm.
She cried, however, the day she found himself standing in his empty apartment, looking at the meticulously folded clothes and the sheets hanging out to dry, because it was only in that moment that she realized that there wouldn't be any more sleeves to stitch on, and no lectures on cleanliness and washing to deliver. She remembers the hours she spent on the floor that day, holding his uniform to her nose, trying to see if there was some trace of him to remember him by before soap and water rubbed it away completely.