Rain fell steady out of a gray sky, washing over the quiet sanctuary of the dead.
Rows of gravestones stretched between old trees, their branches swaying under the weight of the storm.
After the Graveyard Dimension, the government had recovered forty-two bodies. They rested here now, side by side, under the same rain-soaked earth.
One grave stood apart from the rest. The forty-third.
A young woman stood in front of it, shaking. A friend held an umbrella over both their heads, though it did little to keep the rain off her — or hide the tears already running down her face.
Sara Jane pressed both hands over her mouth, holding back sobs that came anyway.
The rain should have swallowed every other sound. Instead, her grief seemed louder than all of it.
Not far off, hidden behind the trunk of an old tree, someone watched without moving.
Zekai stayed still, careful, his eyes never once leaving her.
He had no right to stand beside her. No right to comfort her. No right to tell her what had really happened.
All he could do was watch her world come apart from the shadows.
He leaned back against the bark and closed his eyes. A memory rose up on its own.
"Mr. Zekai!"
Aron stood next to him, grinning, unable to hide any of it.
"Her name is Sara Jane." A wide smile split his face. "She's really cute... you know."
He laced both index fingers together, shy, grinning like a kid who'd gotten away with something.
"I still can't believe she actually accepted me."
Zekai had barely glanced at him. "...Good for you." He'd walked off like it meant nothing to him at all.
But once he was clear of Aron's sight, a small smile had crept onto his own face without his permission.
So... you finally found someone.
The memory dissolved as fast as it had come.
Sara kept crying. Her friend wrapped an arm around her shoulders and steered her gently away under the umbrella, the two of them walking straight past the tree Zekai stood hidden behind.
She never noticed him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ground the whole way. Her world had gotten too heavy to spare attention for anyone else.
Only once she'd vanished into the rain did he finally step out from behind the tree.
His footsteps came slowly. Every meter toward Aron's grave felt impossibly heavy, as though each one stretched into years.
The rain kept falling, but he stopped hearing it. Wind, thunder, the rustle of wet leaves — all of it faded into nothing.
When he finally reached the headstone, his eyes went wide.
Aron Lexi.
The name sat carved clean into the stone.
He knew the truth. Aron's body wasn't under this ground at all.
Knowing that changed nothing. The weight sitting on his chest stayed exactly the same either way.
His knees gave out slowly. His fingers curled into the front of his own shirt.
"...I'm sorry." His voice shook.
"I'm so sorry, Aron."
"I had the Arcana running through me. And I still couldn't save you."
His breath came uneven. Without thinking, his hand swept across the top of the headstone, knocking the bouquet resting there onto the wet ground.
"This — none of this is real."
"I left you alone."
"I left you in that hell."
The tears came without permission this time too. Tears mixed into the rain running down his face, indistinguishable from it.
"And here I am. Still walking around like some kind of corpse that forgot to lie down."
A single tear landed on the stone.
"...Don't forgive me for this."
His voice had thinned down to barely more than breath.
"I know you're still alive."
"I don't care where. Doesn't matter."
"I'll find you. Whatever it takes."
He pushed himself back to his feet, fists closing at his sides.
"Whether you're alive—"
"—or stuck somewhere past death itself—"
"I swear I'm bringing you back."
"Whether that ends in life. Or it ends in mine."
Nothing answered him but the rain.
Then—
BOOM!
Lightning split the sky open.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
"Hey, mister."
He spun around fast.
A young man stood behind him, roughly his own age, a black umbrella angled low against the wind. The next flash of lightning lit his face up clear for a second.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
The stranger studied him, unreadable, then held a hand out through the rain without any particular warmth in the gesture.
"Hey. I'm Hira Kinsin."
The name hit something. Zekai's hand came up on reflex and shook it.
"...Hira?" A beat. "I'm Zekai Krystan."
For the first time, Hira's face froze completely.
"...Zekai?" He looked at him in silence, as though searching through years of forgotten memories.
"It's really you."
"Last time I saw you, we were still kids."
Something in Zekai's expression softened, just briefly.
"...Yeah."
"Been a long time. We both grew up."
Rain kept falling between them.
Years had passed since their childhood in Thyra Covenant, back when the two of them had been inseparable in Linoria before life pulled them onto different roads.
Neither of them had imagined that, after so many years apart, Aron would be the one to bring them together again.
And yet here they stood. Not reunited by celebration.
But by a grave.
Hira waved a right hand through the rain, slow.
"...Life's got a cruel sense of humor sometimes." A brief silence, then his eyes drifted to the grave. "So — how'd you know Aron?"
Zekai's eyes dropped.
"He was—" A pause. "A good friend."
"A younger brother."
Hira's smile disappeared. "...I'm sorry."
"...Yeah." His own eyes lowered. "He had that kind of heart in him. Everybody who met him ended up caring about him."
"Never thought someone that young would end up like this."
He looked at the stone in quiet for a moment.
"In the end he died alone."
"Like an orphan."
Zekai's frown snapped sharp. "...What?"
"He had a grandfather." His voice hardened. "Northan."
Hira shook his head. "No."
"He was an orphan from birth. Grew up in our orphanage."
"Northan wasn't blood family. He just gave Aron a job."
"Loved him like a grandson, sure." A beat. "They just weren't actually related."
He folded the umbrella and looked up at the gray sky. "Truth is — he never really had anyone. Not until whoever he found later in life."
Those words struck Zekai harder than watching Aron forget his own name. Zekai's expression darkened, slow.
No. Why. Why did all of it have to land on him.
His fist tightened without his permission.
Hira caught the distance in his eyes. "...Zekai? You alright?"
"...Zekai."
He blinked a few times, dragging himself back.
"...Ah. I'm fine."
Hira gave him a sad half-smile. "Don't carry all of it by yourself."
Hira looked toward the grave. "Sometimes it's just—" A pause. "—fate. Nothing more complicated than that."
They stood there in the rain a while longer, neither speaking.
Hira reached into his coat and pulled out a plain business card.
"If you ever need anything." He held it out.
Zekai hesitated, then took it.
"...Thanks."
He tucked it into his coat without reading it.
Neither of them said anything else for a moment.
Then Zekai turned.
"...See you around."
He didn't wait for a reply. He walked deeper into the rain and let it swallow him whole.
✦ End of Chapter 50 — The Weight of the Living ✦