The rain poured down heavily, mercilessly almost. Ignoring the pain that lingered in the air above the crowd and even adding on to it, mocking them. At least that’s how Lucy felt standing out there, in front of his grave. The newly dug soil was dark brown beneath her feet, soft and soaking in the water. Just thinking that he was down there, motionless, breathless, was enough to tear her heart out of her chest. If it hadn’t been torn out already.
“Natsu…” Her heart screamed his name, shooting pain through every inch of her being, pumping it through the veins that had run cold under her skin. She couldn’t even feel herself… was that normal? She couldn’t feel the rain, couldn’t feel the cold, and couldn’t feel any trace of warmth or joy. She couldn’t sense any happiness in her future. That had died with him. Oh, but if she had to dig through that dirt to get to it and pry open his coffin with her own two hands just to retrieve it, she would. Because that would mean he hadn’t died.
Nobody could speak, just wail. Mournful sobs and sorrowful tears filled the air like a twisted orchestra, but Lucy ignored them. She stood alone, away from the group. It just wasn’t the same without him. It didn’t feel like the same group since he wasn’t standing right beside her, feeling the pain she felt. It was almost heavier to bear this agony knowing that Natsu wasn’t there to help her through it. His comforting embrace was gone, the crook of his neck where she buried her face when he held her tightly was gone. She felt naked standing there, staring at the tomb that marked where he lay. He was gone. Gone, never to come back. Lucy clenched her fists. No more missions with him, rolling her eyes as they sat on the train with him hunched over in sickness, watching the light flicker to his eyes as enemies surrounded him, looking for a fight. She recalled going to her home and him usually being there on her couch, going through her cabinets looking for food, sleeping in her bed. Could she even face her own house that night knowing that he wouldn’t sneak in through her window in the night and curl up beneath her blankets?
“A flame in the darkness”… that was how the master described their deceased comrade at the beginning of the service. “No matter what we were going through, no matter how dire the situation looked, he always found the best in it. He never gave up, not even in the very end” Makarov had said with tears running down his face. “He always put his nakama before himself, always promised to live for them. Now, we must do the same for him.”
Lucy’s face screwed up further, fighting the tears that were brimming at her eyes. For after the master had spoken, he had come up to her.
“Lucy…” he said gently, raising his arms up above his bowed head to present the gift to her. A folded up white scarf, torn and charred but still in one piece. “I want you to have this. So you can always keep a part of him with you. As incredibly hard as this is on me, I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
Lucy wasn’t happy at first. Why did they pull Natsu away from his scarf, which was a part of him all through his life? Lucy could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him without Igneel’s scarf on, and she thought that he didn’t look the same without it even though he was buried. But when she took it from Makarov, she was glad they had put it aside just for her. Running her fingers over the black parts where fire had licked at it, it was like a souvenir of their adventures. And when she wrapped it around her neck, she was overwhelmed by the scent: it was an exact copy of his aroma, like a crackling fire and the outdoors. It smelled like everything happy that she had ever known. It smelled like Natsu.
“You’re hurt,” he had murmured, fingers hovering over the gash in her arm. Lucy winced as another round of pain pumped through her arm, but she smiled still at him.
