Race Against Time

Funeral of Flowers

"We are all gathered here today to celebrate the life of Byleth Eisner."

A week had passed since she had gone.

Everyone was gathered together, dressed in their solemn shades of black as the funeral parlor, Marianne, said a nice little speech about Byleth and invited them to make the most of the ceremony. Claude had worn a suit, only managing to get the clothes on by imagining her little reaction. "You look so good in that," she would have whispered, and while that had torn him apart, he put the clothes on just so he could hold on to that memory.

"Claude? How are you doing?" Hilda asked softly from where she sat next to him. Claude didn't respond. His gaze was focused on his hands, his hands that now lacked the presence of his beloved's. Hilda sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Claude...I'm so sorry..."

Me too. How dare-no, how could I let her die...?

...That was what she wanted.

But how could she leave me here like this-!?

There was no amount of consolation that could simply help him. Hilda graciously left him alone, and while everyone else wandered about, Claude could only sit in his chair, his eyes having lost their sparkle.

There was only one memory that played in his head on repeat. The memory of when she'd finally passed on...

As the song ended, Claude suddenly realized that the light had faded from her eyes, her grip had loosened, and that she was no longer moving or breathing...

Nothing but still and total silence.

"B-Byleth...? Please," Claude choked once more as he embraced her. There was no use. She still didn't move, a smile embedded on her face "Please, no, please..."

"...Claude-"

"This-why-? Just why...why, why did I let this happen...? Please, Byleth, come back, I need you-"

"Claude, she's gone!" Jeralt said harshly, loud enough to make his desperate ramblings silent. He sighed, a shadow over his face, "she's...gone. It's not your fault."

"Jeralt..." Claude had to bite his tongue for Byleth's sake. No one would ever know just how much Byleth's death really was his fault. No one except for him...and he'd have to live with that guilt all his life. Claude grasped at Byleth's hand. She was still warm, though that warmth was fading fast.

She was...dead.

Why had fate been so cruel to them both...?

She had been...happy. Smiling, actually. At the very least, Claude was relieved that at least one of them could experience that sort of emotion about her demise.

"My condolences about what has occurred, Claude. I certainly always thought she was strong enough to survive." Edelgard and her retainer, Hubert had come along with Dimitri and Dedue. "Unfortunately, illness is not something to be controlled." Something inside of Claude snapped. No one knew just how much control he truly had over the situation, and how his decision...his decision had resulted in this...

"You're wrong, Edelgard," Claude said, "she chose to die because she was strong enough to know what she wanted. For her, that was good enough..."

"Why would that be-"

"Enough, Edelgard," Dimitri sighed, "our condolences, Claude. Byleth was a wonderful person."

Was.

Claude still wasn't used to hearing her name in the past tense...

He kept expecting her to pop up next to him, a witty comment through her lips, or her laugh sounding through the air, but time and time again, there was nothing...

Claude stood, unaware that his feet had carried him to Byleth's casket. There she was, lying as still as ever, that same smile still etched on her face. Her minty hair still framed her features, the white gown on her only accentuating her oddly colored hair. Pictures of her with Jeralt and Claude were frequent in the casket, a bouquet of magnolias in her hands...

Water dripped onto her pale face, and Claude only realized he was crying once the tears followed him.  She looked so happy...

"Claude, it's alright. Don't cry. I'll always be with you."

Claude jerked backward, confused at the sound of his beloved Teach's voice. She was still in that black casket, unmoving, but he swore he heard her...He placed his hand against one of hers, feeling the familiar cold of her skin, though this wasn't anywhere near the same...the one before had a hidden layer of warmth underneath. This cold was only full of chills.

"Don't cry...?" Claude muttered, his chest shuddering as he struggled to breathe, "you're asking the impossible, Teach..."

"Claude...I sincerely apologize for her death. I only wish I could have done something." The Archbishop had even made a grand appearance at Byleth's funeral. Even though Byleth had only truly been alive for a year, so many people had come. She had made an impact in so little time...

Claude wiped at his face. Don't cry any longer...do one more thing for her. "This isn't your fault, Rhea." It's mine.

"Do not blame yourself, dear child," Rhea said softly as she placed a hand on Claude's shoulder. Claude raised a brow, confused as to how she had basically read his mind. "Look at how happy she is, Claude. In due time, you shall surely meet again with her."

Claude wasn't sure of what to even say anymore.

"Oh, Byleth...you idiot! You idiot, why did you have to go-!?"

Someone's bustling and loud voice came from behind the two, and Claude turned to see a short girl with long, green hair and eyes. Despite the similar coloring to Byleth, this girl's hair was much longer and a darker green.

"Are you Claude?" The girl demanded, but she continued on, not even giving him a chance to answer, "you must be. She talked about you all the time. I see why. But that's not the point...Claude, she told me she'd find a cure with you! What...what happened...?"

"We..." Found the cure. "...ran out of time..."

"Oh, no...Byleth, why did you leave us here like this...?"

Claude could only shake his head in refusal, the three of them staring at Byleth's unmoving body. Suddenly, he felt a hand pulling at his, but when he looked. there was nothing...

The hand had turned him in the direction of Jeralt. He was just standing there, emotionlessly, his haggard appearance mirroring Claude's own. Claude cautiously walked over, and while the two men didn't say anything, they both shared in remembrance of just who they had lost...the most important person in their lives.

What if everything had changed...? Why did everything have to end this way...? How did the happiest times of his life have to end in a funeral of flowers...?

If only...if only fate had been kinder...

Perhaps Byleth wouldn't have lost her race against time.