Rain poured down from a colorless sky, a thousand grieving souls dressed in black gathered beneath umbrellas at the edge of the cemetery. Tears mixed quietly with the falling rain, faces hidden in shadow beneath their silent grief. A cold breeze blew gently, whispering its mournful song through the trees as if nature itself was mourning alongside them.

Miura, Kid, Reyn, Urara—the four coffins sat solemnly, draped in flowers and mementos of a life now lost. Loved ones, fans, friends, and family stood united, hearts heavy with unspoken pain.

Gramps stood beside Sona, his weathered face worn thin, shoulders trembling ever so slightly. He squeezed Sona’s hand gently, trying to offer strength he himself was struggling to find.

Sona stood motionless, staring ahead, red hair drenched and clinging to her face, hiding eyes swollen from crying. The silence around her felt deafening, louder than any concert she'd ever known.

Mark stood silently to the side, Louis gripping tightly to his brother’s hand. Louis stared quietly at the small girl with red hair. He'd never seen her look like this—so broken, so alone. He felt a deep pang in his chest, wanting desperately to comfort her, but unsure how.

The ceremony concluded with gentle words, memories shared in trembling voices, a tribute to lives cut far too short. Sona’s eyes never left Miura’s coffin as it was lowered into the earth, her body shaking as silent sobs wracked through her small frame.

Afterwards, as people began to leave, Mark approached Gramps quietly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry we had to meet again like this,” he said softly, eyes reflecting deep sorrow.

Gramps gave him a weak, weary smile, squeezing Mark’s arm gently. “Ain’t your fault, son. Ain’t no one’s fault but them that done it.” His voice shook slightly, emotion breaking through his usually steady demeanor. “Miura—she loved you. Don’t ever forget that. And thank you for bein’ there for her when ya could.”

Mark nodded quietly, swallowing hard as he looked down at Louis, then back to Gramps. “She meant the world to me too. If there’s ever anything…”

Gramps shook his head slowly, eyes tired. “Just take care of your brother, Mark. That’s all Miura would want now.”

Mark nodded solemnly, turning towards Louis. “We gotta get going, buddy. Long drive ahead.”

Louis hesitated, glancing back toward Sona one last time, who had now walked quietly away from the crowd, heading towards the distant edge of the church’s brick wall. He lingered, watching her walk away, a lump forming in his throat.

“Louis,” Mark’s voice was gentle. “We’ll see her again someday, okay?”

Louis nodded slowly, climbing quietly into the backseat of the car. As they pulled away, Louis turned his head toward the window, eyes locked on the small figure of Sona, who was now curled up tightly against the brick wall, shoulders trembling visibly as the rain continued to pour.

She looked so tiny, so fragile, so utterly alone. His heart broke at the sight, and all he wanted was to go back, to comfort her, to tell her it would somehow be okay. But the car continued forward, distance growing rapidly, the image of Sona fading into the blurry backdrop of rain and tears.

“Lou,” Mark whispered from the driver’s seat, watching his little brother through the rear-view mirror. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get through this, I promise.”

Louis simply nodded, leaning his head quietly against the window, tears silently streaming down his face. He made a quiet promise to himself then—a promise he hoped one day he’d keep:

Someday, I’ll find you again. And I’ll never leave you alone again, Sona. I promise.

But for now, he could only watch helplessly as the little red-haired girl disappeared entirely from sight, leaving only the lingering echo of loss and sorrow behind.