Author's Note: After a short break, I'm back to writing for FE13! My obsession has been renewed XD This is probably my favorite fandom to write for, anyway.

I sincerely hope I'm not the only person who ships Lon'qu and Say'ri together. What really makes me mad is that they don't interact with each other at all in the game. They have NO SUPPORTS, which doesn't make any sense at all considering they're both swordmasters and from Chon'sin and should have at least ONE conversation together. This piece isn't very romantic, but prepare for more Lon'qu x Say'ri fics coming up!

But I digress, enjoy the story! Feedback is always appreciated.

The night in Chon'sin was a cool one, the pale crescent moon watching above from the sky. Say'ri had left the confines of her tent to get some fresh air, but out here she still felt smothered, as if someone was choking her. Her breaths were coming in short, heavy gasps, and despite the chilly breeze, tiny beads of sweat pricked her forehead.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm down.

Since the battle that had taken place two weeks ago, she hadn't been able to sleep at all at night. Her only source of comfort was pacing around the graveyard in which her brother rested, where she felt strangely at home. Unlike most other people, Say'ri wasn't afraid of the twisted, ominous shadows that the trees cast on the ground or the lonesome, slightly eerie moaning of the wind. Part of it was because she knew her brother's spirit was there and watching over her.

Now she found herself kneeling in front of Yen'fay's grave like she always did, where she had placed an exquisite sword and sheath to honor his swordsmanship. She noticed that a bouquet of freshly picked flowers had appeared beside the sword tonight. Briefly, she wondered who had put them here, but was too weary to ponder the question any further.

She slumped to her knees and cradled her head in her hands. She was so tired, tired of everything.

"Say'ri?"

At the unexpected voice, her head snapped up. In an instant, the harsh clang of steel resounded throughout the graveyard as she drew her blades in one smooth motion, with the skill of none but an expert swordsmaster who had trained for years. Warily, she surveyed the graveyard, seeking the source of the voice. She had used to believe she wasn't afraid of ghosts, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Relax, Say'ri. It is merely me." A figure appeared from out of the shadows, and she instantly recognized the tall, muscled build of another swordsman.

"Lon'qu?" she asked after a moment. When he grunted in acknowledgement, she slowly slid her swords back into their sheaths and turned on him with fury.

"You should have identified yourself," she snapped, "before sneaking up on me in the middle of the night."

Lon'qu sighed, and didn't respond. Instead, he took a few steps forward and halted at a careful distance from her before finally speaking in his usual curt voice. "So this is where you have been sneaking off to all these nights."

"Y-you noticed I was gone?" Say'ri tried to conceal her unease. "So what of it? Am I not allowed to visit my brother's grave?"

"I never said that."

"Tell me, why did you follow me here?"

"Do not jump to conclusions, woman." At that last word, she seethed in anger. He hesitated and went on gruffly. "I just wanted to get a bit of fresh air."

She didn't believe him, and he knew it.

Lon'qu shifted uncomfortably and when he spoke again, his voice was painfully strained. "Fine. You want to know the truth?" he muttered at last. "My childhood friend lies at rest here. Her name is Ke'ri, and she was killed by a group of bandits." At this, his hands curled into fists, clutching at the fabric of his clothes.

"I was not able to save her. It was my fault she died, and I cannot seem to escape my guilt."

As he spoke, Say'ri was achingly reminded of her own situation. With excruciating detail, she remembered how her sword had stabbed itself into Yen'fay, seemingly not from her own volition but by a will of its own. How he cried out in agony and stumbled, clutching at the fatal wound in his side. He had gone easy on her, for she would never have been able to defeat him otherwise. She remembered the blood pouring out of her brother and his last words, praising her at how much she had improved.

She could never forget.

"I am sorry," Say'ri said quietly, and did not pry more. Despite herself, she couldn't help but ask, "But why are you telling me all this? Are you not...afraid of women?"

"I have asked myself that same question," Lon'qu replied gruffly. "And to be honest, I'm not exactly sure of the answer...but I think it's because we have both lost someone very dear to our hearts, and we both feel responsible." He finally looked straight at her. "I thought that maybe you would understand my feelings."

Stunned, Say'ri just gazed at him, unsure how to respond. In those few moments of silence, his face turned bright red and he sputtered, turned away. "Never mind. Forget everything I just—"

"No, it is all right. I understand." She managed to smile, feeling strangely touched, and they stood there for a few moments before something occurred to her. "Were you the one who left the flowers by Yen'fay's grave?"

He nodded once, still looking uneasy.

"Thank you, Lon'qu," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

"No need. He was a worthy and courageous warrior, and I grieve too for his death."

Say'ri watched, startled, as the swordsman tentatively came over to join her in front of her fallen brother's grave. She could tell that their close proximity made him nervous, but he was clearly forcing himself to remain by her side, and she was grateful for his soothing presence.

Maybe this was his own version of comfort, his way of trying to support her through her grief, that spoke much louder than any meaningless reassurances he could have given her.

Quietly, they stood side by side in front of the row of graves. Neither of them spoke after that, but somehow their silence said everything they ever needed to.