Twilight had long passed, but they were still there.
The one positive to planning a funeral without a body was that they were free to delay. There was no worry of decay or embalming. It could simply wait until Ahsoka and Obi-Wan could struggle out of the Jedi medical wing. Ahsoka's body still ached, nerves screaming at her to sit down and stop, and Obi-Wan was already looking forward to more pain medication and a nice soft cot. But neither of them gave in to the pain.
Truthfully, it was only luck that they were even on their feet. Obi-Wan understood it more than Ahsoka did. It was a terrifying new weapon - something designed specifically against Jedi. The induced bacta allergy was manageable only because kolto had been stockpiled for some Jedi knight's research project; coupled with the immediate Separatist blockade of Manaan, it was no coincidence. And the virus had attacked and disabled midi-chlorians. They would recover, of course. The Force, and life, always prevailed. But until then... Obi-Wan was intensely uncomfortable, and he imagined that Ahsoka felt the same. It was not like being suddenly blind. Everyone knew the sensation of closed eyes bringing blackness that was temporary. No, it was much more subtle, like suddenly losing his sense of smell or touch. An overarching numbness. It was slowly coming back, and not quite as jarring as the moment the virus had initially hit them.
Obi-Wan was trying to not brood over that moment. The impact, the acrid smell, the sudden blackness of unconsciousness followed by a clone trooper shaking him awake; reeling, unable to find the Force, barely able to stand; screaming Anakin's name, getting no answer, dragging Ahsoka's body away - dragging Ventress' body to safety after not finding where Anakin's could be. He presumed, at the time, another clone trooper pulled him to safety. And then the second blast hit, the building dissolving into fire and dust. Perhaps if he simply had spent more time searching for Anakin...
But now there was nothing but embers.
There had been a long line of mourners, officials coming to pay respects. The plain bier of wood had initially been built around a set of Anakin's own robes, a symbolic stand-in for his body, but flowers and gifts piled over the wood, covering the plain robes with extravagance straight from the Republic, finally shrouded with a Republic flag. The flames burned brightly and fragrantly at first, then settled into a steady inferno. Now there were a few glowing embers in a pile of ash.
Plo Koon had given Ahsoka the gift of very kind words before going, but even he eventually had other duties to attend to. Now they were simply standing side by side - Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, the two people Anakin had left behind.
Ahsoka was staring dully into the last dull glowing embers before she finally looked up to Obi-Wan.
"What do we do now?"
Obi-Wan gave a solid gulp. After all, he had been through this before with the loss of Qui-Gon. He was supposedly an expert.
"Well." His voice was dry and a little raw. "I think that... perhaps... both of us might benefit from some time away from the Jedi Temple." After a long moment, he added: "Truthfully, I was going to go to Dex's Diner and order one of everything that is fried, and two of everything fried and covered in powdered sugar."
Ahsoka gave a near-audible blink. Obi-Wan had always been meticulous about his diet - not a killjoy, but his indulgences had been carefully measured and considered. He had stared in disbelieving horror whenever Anakin acquired and immediately ate one of the cheap snack cakes he was fond of, and doubly horrified when he saw the ingredients list full of things none of them had a chance of pronouncing (and the claims that said snack cake would keep for up to a century because of all the preservatives found in it).
"Can we order three of everything fried and covered in sugar?"
"Of course."
They were near-silent as they shuffled through the nighttime city streets. It wasn't animosity - at least, not yet. Ahsoka would eventually need somebody or something to be furious at, but right now they were simply too tired. The illness caused by the biological agent still clung to them. Fortunately Dex's Diner was open late into the night, and by the time their first orders came out, they were actually managing to have a conversation. Miraculously, it wasn't even a conversation about Anakin, or the lack of him. Instead Obi-Wan was recounting his first meeting Dex.
Abruptly, Ahsoka's head jerked up, her eyes going suddenly wide. "He's here!"
"Ahsoka -"
"He's here, he's not dead, I see him -" she scrambled out of the booth, breathless, heading towards the door. "Anakin! Anakin!" She flung the door open, and as Obi-Wan followed her, he spotted what she saw: a man from the back with wavy brown hair. "Hey! Anakin! Sky Guy!"
The man finally turned his head an glared at her - his face unshaven, nose hawklike, cheekbones high, brown eyes heavy and dull.
It wasn't Anakin.
"Kriff off," the man barked out, shooing Ahsoka away. She stumbled to a stop, swaying in place. Obi-Wan gently reached out to grab her shoulder, pulling her back inside the diner. Her face had gone dull and slack in expression again, shoulders drooping. When she sat down, her head was immediately buried in her hands, ignoring the food in front of them.
And Obi-Wan let her cry, understanding how necessary it was.