WARNINGS: Death-fic, Trowa POV

Violently Tremble

By: Skylar Inari

April

A.C. 196

It was horrible. Having to stand and watch THEM shovel dirt over him, listening to them laugh about how the young master Winner had been so weak willed and couldn't even survive a war that he didn't even fight it. I almost killed them for that. They'd have deserved it.

When the service was over and everyone else had gone back to where ever they had come from I showed up to say good-bye as THEY shovel dirt on him. I should have gone to the service, Wufei wanted me to, but I couldn't. I couldn't be around people who thought that his dying was a joke. I think Wufei understands that now. I watched him as he left, he was pure white in anger, furious that anyone could treat HIM that way. If I had gone those people would have died, and HE wouldn't have wanted that.

I stared at THEM from behind a tree as THEY shoveled dirt over one of the few people I ever truely cared about, and felt myself die a second time.

It seemed to take them an agonizingly long time to finish with what THEY were doing. I waited, my gaze never turning away from that great gaping hole in the ground where my lover lay.

At long last they finished. As I slowly walked up to the place where HE now lay in eternal rest I felt tears streak down my face. For the first time in as long as I can remember I cried. I cried so hard I thought my ribs would break, until I couldn't breathe and still I kept on crying. In his death I also died but at the same time I could not rest like he could under the layers of dirt they had piled on him.

And I cried for the guilt he had found when there had been none to place on him.

I found Quatre's diary the other day, while Wufei and I were sending his stuff back to the Winner family. As I lifted it up a page fell out into my lap. What it said was:

"The pen I use to write now is becoming heavier. I’ve gotten that weak. Sometimes it scares me. Other times I find it most interesting to observe how weak a body can get before it leaves this world."

He was right. That observation scared me to death. My angel had become obsessed with dying because he failed in what he thought was his task. When I showed it to Wufei he forced me to go rest in my room while he finished up. He made me go, worried most likely about me going next to my death if I didn't get those words out of my mind.

Now I stand here in front of Quatre's grave and stare mindlessly at the gracefully written words that had nothing to do with my lover and wanted to destroy that grave stone and everyone who had had the nerve to call him weak and laugh at his tears. He was right. No one understands the tears of gentle people.

Aishiteru Quatre. I hope you knew that. I hope that you understand that for me you were everything I needed and wanted from this life.

It's starting to rain. A heavy soaking rain that made the blood in your veins run cold and make you wish for warm arms to hold you close. I lower my face to my hands and let the rain drench my clothes and plaster them to my body. The flowers that people left on your grave are washed away by the steady down-pour.

The rain allows me to cry easier. It's like a blanket of sorrow that says it's okay to grieve freely, even when nobody else thinks it's right. The rain has always been my friend. I was my only one until you came alone with your beautiful eyes and heart to enfold me in a warmth I thought was lost from me forever. Arigato.

I fall to my knees into the soft dirt used to hide you and think back on the last few days before you died. The way you smiled softly as the birds sang of spring even though you couldn't even walk outside to enjoy the sight of the flowers blooming and the laughter of the children. The way your eyes traced the view from the window, as if you were memorizing every last detail with that wistful gaze. Most of all the way you whispered my name before you left me alone once again. So soft that I had to strain to hear it and so gentle that it broke my heart all over again.

The rain still continues as I get to my feet, as if the heavens themselves are echoing my pain. A pain that will not lessen in the passage of the years - assuming that I manage to get over the first blow - and a hurt of being injured by one I loved so completely that I would have given up my life for him without a second thought.

I just stand at his grave. Thinking nothing, wanting to think of nothing. And just let the repressed tears of my life spill out. And through it all, I do one thing.

I violently tremble.

~owari~

<sniffles> Waaaahhhhhh!!!!!!!!