"What do you think about Kazuhiko Ryoti?"
Kaminari was asked first.
"He's more than awesome!! He lets me sometimes sleep in class, plays video games with me, and helps me study. But he can be annoying as well, forcing me to follow a sleep schedule andwhatnot!"
Kaminari walked up to Kazuhiko's body inside the coffin, looking at him with watery eyes. Kaminari wore a black funeral suit, with his hair down.
"Old man..."
Kaminari had already lost people close to him too many times: his parents, Dylan, and now Kazuhiko.
He blamed himself for being too weak. If only he could've been strong enough to stop The Watcher or Gisurd, none of this would've happened.
Kaminari clenched his fists, wanting to get revenge so bad it shook his entire body.
But he tried to calm himself down, because he understood the meaning behind the funeral. It was to cherish Kazuhiko's life, and for now, he had to sit down.
Kaminari stepped back, wiping his eyes.
Isabella followed slowly, her steps soft, as if afraid to disturb the silence.
"Kazuhiko...? Well, he's a cool teacher. But apart from being a teacher, he's also someone you can depend on. He's almost like a father."
Isabella stood in Kaminari's spot. Her red hair rested on her shoulders while she was wearing a dark suit with a skirt.
She placed a rose on Kazuhiko's chest.
"Goodbye..." Isabella said, still sobbing from all the crying she had done earlier.
Isabella was gifted her blade to protect others, but she couldn't do that. Not now, not when she lost everyone.
All she could do was carry that weight with her. The weight of being weak.
"Oh, um... Kazuhiko... He's a smart teacher and, um... He's a friend with everyone."
Deia stood next to Kazuhiko's coffin. Her pale skin and white hair contrasted with her dark clothes.
She stood quietly, hardly able to look at Kazuhiko's corpse. There was something that crept her out about it.
"I'm sorry..." Deia whispered.
She wanted to look at him one last time, but couldn't. Deia went with the easy way once again, not facing her struggles.
Kazuhiko would've encouraged her not to choose the easiest option.
"His teachings have helped me understand concepts I struggled to grasp. He's not my homeroom teacher, but I'd say we are close."
Cedar adjusted his glasses, the same ones Kazuhiko helped him repair when he fell and broke them.
His dark hair was blown around by the sudden gust of wind.
Cedar didn't want to blame himself for what had happened, but had he used his eyes to get rid of every Hunter and Gisurd, there could've been a chance of Kazuhiko surviving.
Everyone knew Elara was the one to shoot him; she had been locked up already, but Gisurd enabled that to happen. Because of Gisurd, Kazuhiko was distracted the entire time and showed up at the last minute, completely worn out.
"Rest easy," Cedar said, accepting Kazuhiko's death.
Cedar had seen the loss of many already and was taught to accept it. Even though he wasn't crying, the feeling stung in his chest.
"He's a teacher, but I know he has a lot of potential as a fighter."
Rye stood quietly with his messy red hair and tombstone-like teeth, while his back was slightly hunched.
"Rest in peace."
That was all Rye said. He didn't cry or feel the pain others did.
To Rye, death was a part of life, an unavoidable one at that. He didn't completely understand why people would cry over a noble sacrifice of Kazuhiko's, but he knew the weight of losing someone close to them could hurt.
As more people went to say their last words, Rye sat down next to Cedar.
When everyone who had attended the funeral placed their flowers down, a man called out Seiji, the Head of Operations.
Seiji had long black hair tied together by a piece of cloth.
Seiji made his way to the podium and stood in front of the microphone.
It was quiet. But with a cough, he started the speech.
"Kazuhiko wasn't just a teacher, but a friend to many. He had a way of reaching people with just a few words, and that's what made him who he was. I can see by this crowd how much he meant to all of us."
"He always saw through the masks we wore. He laughed and cried with us, even when we couldn't show him what we felt. No matter who you were, Kazuhiko was there."
"He wasn't a man of force. He believed in words, in listening, in finding another way when none seemed possible. That was his gift, a gift not many are born with."
"To his family, to his child yet to be born, we will carry his will forward. And to Kazuhiko Ryoti, thank you for showing us the kindness we needed, even when we didn't ask for it."
"We'll carry that kindness in our hearts. Rest in peace, friend."
Seiji stood quietly for some time. He saw some cry, some stand there with empty looks in their eyes, and some were on the verge of crying.
Mai cried the entire time they were there. Tears ran down her cheeks, and countless used tissues lay next to her.
Kazuhiko couldn't be there to see their unborn child grow up. The child in her was going to grow up without a caring father.
The other Elites stood quietly next to each other. None of them cried, but they were visibly distraught.
The funeral went on with others giving their thoughts.
It was all tied up with the crowd standing up and quietly walking out.
"This... None of it is fair... God damn it—!" Kaminari yelled once the group was standing together.
"Kaminari..." Deia quietly said with empathy.
"Calm down." Isabella placed her hand on his shoulder. "We know it isn't fair. That's why we have to get back at Lucian, don't we?"
Kaminari nudged her hand away without answering. His fists shook at his sides.
That was when they saw him.
Yamikuro stood a few steps away, separated from the mourners. His eyes were empty. He didn't speak, didn't even flinch when they called his name.
The promise he had made, not to kill, was shattered, and in its place was only silence.
Kaminari froze, the anger draining from him. Isabella's breath caught. Even Cedar, who always found words, said nothing.
"Yamikuro…" Deia whispered. But the boy they knew wasn't there in his eyes.
Slowly, he turned his head toward them. His movements were sluggish, as though every step cost him something. When he finally stopped in front of them, no words came
Kaminari opened his mouth, then closed it again. The fire in him had nothing left to burn against.
Isabella wanted to reach for Yamikuro, but her hand trembled, and she let it fall back to her side.
Cedar's gaze lingered, as if searching for some trace of the friend he remembered.
Rye was the only one staring directly at Yamikuro, as if he were observing him.
One by one, they stood shoulder to shoulder again, not because they were ready, not because they had answers, but because they had nothing else left.
The weight of Kazuhiko's death. The promise Yamikuro broke. The anger that had nowhere to go.
They were together again, united in their brokenness.