Work Text:
There is one grave on the hill.
There are eight people gathered around it.
It’s new and pristine, and fresh flowers adorn it.
There is one grave on the hill and everyone present hates it.
It should not be here — the person who lies there should be with them — alive — laughing and smiling and cheering them on. Everyone present knows it;
The girl who had always thought him the perfect example of who they all should strive to be. The girl who saw her sister in him, in the way he could easily motivate others and share his positive energy. She could never do that as well as her sister or the one who lies in the grave.
The boy who clutches his haori, who would do anything only for the one in the grave to switch places with him. So many good people were lost, so many far better than him. And yet he still stands and the one in the grave is dead.
The boy and the girl who stand close to each other, who both mourn him for the same reason — he was like a brother, to both of them. They lived with him, be it for years or just a couple of months. They lived with him and they have experienced first hand just how good of a person he was. Both of them doubt if they can ever even come close to him. And both of them are still here and he is dead.
The boy who had lost so many, so many great people, all because of the monsters. He curses those abominations, promising revenge for the sake of the lost ones. This is the only thing he can grant them now, including the one who is in the grave.
The friend who had joked with him just before he went on that mission. The friend who knows that he had no regrets, that he died as the victor he was, with his head held high and a smile on his face. He knows that he will soon depart on a similar mission, where he might as well face the same danger he did. And he knows that he will never be nearly as prepared to face it as the one in the grave was.
The man who prays for the dead one’s soul. He was a remarkable child, a great slayer and the saviour of many. He died saving those in need, not a single one lost. It’s just a shame that the one who accomplished it had to depart this world. The man prays for his soul and promises to meet him once he too passes having completed his duty.
Even the boy who does not know why he is here nor does he remember the one who died, knows that he hates the grave. It feels wrong, for whatever reason that he doesn’t really understand. It makes him angry. Whoever this person was, he knows that he deserved to live.
There is one grave on the hill, new and pristine, and the eight people gathered around it all hate it.
***
There are five graves on the hill.
There are three people gathered around them.
The first grave is a little older than the rest, less pristine, but it is clearly taken care of and looking at it hurts no less. The rest is clearly new, pristine. A recent addition. A wound that has yet to heal.
There are five graves on the hill and everyone present hates them.
The second grave has no body, it disappeared alongside the one who killed the girl who should be laid to rest there. It’s adorned with the most flowers, the girl’s sisters clearly come here often.
The man in the mismatched haori puts even more flowers there. Not wisteria, never again wisteria. She does not have to fight now, she can be with her family. Her sister. The boy misses her dearly, but knows that he will join her soon.
The third grave is empty too, but no one knows what happened to the body. Perhaps it disappeared with the Castle or maybe it’s still somewhere, scattered in five different pieces. This grave has less flowers, but it does have much more paper airplanes and animals — befitting the child that should be here.
The man with a flashy eye patch lies another paper critter — a mouse that is unusually muscular. He wonders what would have happened if he went instead of the boy. He planned to take him in after the battle was won, but now he is here, and he will stay here for the longest time, and the boy is dead, gone after the least amount.
The fourth grave has two bodies. It was impossible to separate the lovers who have died in each other’s arms. They could not be together in life, but at least they can be together in death.
The scarred man curses under his breath. He does not understand why he was given more time when those who clearly deserved it more didn’t. His friend and his lover, his brother and all the others. He knows that he will join them soon, but for now he will live for them.
The fifth grave has one body. The one who lies here knew that there was no way for them to survive the battle and yet was the first to go in. He has died completing his duty and can now finally rest in death.
The three men gathered around the graves all bow to the fifth one. They all respected the man greatly, two of them having followed his lead into the battle and the last one having stayed behind, to ensure that if they failed, the worst would not come to be. They have respected the man greatly and they respected his choice and now they bow in lieu of his sacrifice. They would all have preferred it if the man could have lived though.
There are five graves on the hill, one older and four new, and the three people gathered around them all hate them.
***
There are six graves on the hill.
There are two people gathered around them.
The first five have been there for years now, the last one is new, the man put to rest there obly earlier that day.
There are six graves on the hill and everyone present hates them.
The first man used to hate the man and now he hates his grave instead. Perhaps the only thing able to dwell the pain is the knowledge that he’ll be next.
The second man has to support the first, who is no longer able to stand on his own. It will still be years until he joins them.
There are six graves on the hill, five old, one recent, and the two people still around both hate them.
***
There are seven graves on the hill.
There is only one person left .
The graves get older and older and the man does too.
There are seven graves on the hill and the man hates each of them.
Years and decades pass, he gets weaker and weaker and yet he still comes to the hill, to visit his old friends.
There are seven graves on the hill and he wonders when there’ll be eight.
***
There are eight graves on the hill.
There are no people gathered around them.
Their family still come, their friends still visit, they still bring flowers and paper airplanes, they still cry and they still mourn them, but out of the nine there is no one left.
There are eight graves on the hill and no one left to hate them.
There are eight souls in heaven, all gathered today together, for their ninth friend has just joined them.