Ronin Warriors are the property of Sunrise. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made. This story is the property of the author. ________ Last Impressions: Ryo Five Minutes I felt it when they died. Cye was a whisper, calm and gentle, tinged with a pain barely felt and filled with the warmth and affection that had always been his way. He was weak, and I barely felt his presence anymore until suddenly it was gone and the hole it left in my heart was a hundred times larger than Cye himself had been. Oh God, it hurt. Rowen and Sage were screaming in my mind and Kento was a painfilled howl of rage and grief, exhaustion and pain. Then he was gone too, and something in my soul snapped into a thousand pieces. For how long I was lost in the sudden black they left behind, I don’t know. All of a sudden I was standing in the middle of the street, covered in a cold sweat, my heart pounding, my eyes burning and trembling all over. I tried to take a breath and ended up sobbing instead. White Blaze pressed himself against my leg, still and silent, looking up at me. I bury my hand in his thick fur, gathering strength for what I have to do. A long minute later I let go and start to run again. I see the battlefield long before I get there. The ground is torn apart in jagged chasms and piles of rubble. Kento’s sure kill, his final attack. He’d poured every ounce of strength he had into that last strike, a final effort to take out the Dynasty soldiers attacking them. Not in self-defense though. Vengeance. They’d kileld Cye; Kento had made them pay for that in blood. “It wasn’t enough, was it?” I say softly, surveying the shattered landscape. It wasn’t. Nothing would ever make the score even between us and the Dynasty now. This… God, nothing would ever make this right again. “Where are you guys?” I automatically reach out to touch them through the link and the bleak emptiness wraps around me yet again. They’re gone, totally and completely, nothingness occupying the portion of my mind they used to inhabit. It feels so wrong, so empty with only the three of us left. They’ve stopped screaming, but I think Sage is crying. They’ll be here soon. Lacking a better option, I just look, relying for the first time in more than a year on the regular five senses to find my friends, with no extra help from the sixth. It takes a few long minutes but amongst the darkly clad bodies of the Dynasty youja, I can make out the pale blue and orange of Ronin armor. I begin making my way through the corpses, keeping both eyes firmly fastened on the slight glint of color until, finally, I am at their side. … They look almost asleep. If not for the blood, I could pretend they were asleep, sprawled on the floor after a wrestling match; lying on the beach, letting the sun dry them after a water fight; resting during practice and ignoring my lecture about goofing off; tucked together in bed after a particularly bad round of nightmares. I could see it. If not for the blood. There are no youja around for at least ten feet and I can see indications where some bodies were dragged away. I can imagine Kento, bloody and battered and royally pissed, hauling off any demons that dared die too close to him and smile a little. With a shake of my head I banish the thought. There is no place for levity in this situation. Cye is lying on his back, ands at his side, head tilted ever so slightly. His armor is cracked and shattered, crusted with blood. There is blood on his face, in his hair and - I have to close my eyes a moment - spread thick and wet into the ground beneath him. Kento lies beside him, his head resting on Cye’s chest. I know they’re dead, but I check for a pulse anyway. I don’t find one. It’s a final confirmation, seeing it with my own eyes. The pain is almost immeasurable, tearing at the inside of my chest until I think a knife would have been kinder. Kneling, I brush gentle fingers across Cye’s cheek, drifting down to rest against Kento’s brow. “I love you guys.” It’s the only goodbye I can manage, the only one that could come from my heart. The arms that wrap around me almost catch me by surprise, so caught up am I in the sight before me, the pain inside me. Then Rowen has all but collapsed against me, face buried against my shoulder and I raise my arms to hold him. “They’re *gone,*” he whispers plaintively, sounding so young, so sad. “This can’t be happening. It can’t, Ryo, it can’t.” He’s right. In my heart I know that everything about this is wrong, impossible - just *not.* I’ll wake up to the smell of Cye’s special waffles, hear Kento cheering to cartoons or the game, then spend thirty very frustrating minutes trying to wake Rowan before we both head downstairs for breakfast while Sage complains about the noise. I *know* it’ll happen. Every bit as strongly as I know it never will again. We split up for the morning. Just for a few hours to go shopping. We were going to meet for lunch. Kento wanted pizza. Cye threw a fit when Rowen suggested sushi. It was just for a few hours. Now we’ll never be whole again. “I was too late,” I whisper quietly, feeling Rowen’s arms tighten around me. “It couldn’t have been more than five minutes… Only five minutes, Ro.” “It’s not your fault,” he says fiercely. “None of us were here.” I hear him, but I can’t make myself believe him. “Only five minutes.” “Five minutes…” end