…and a sky so blue that it'll eat you alive.

Written for the word prompt "sky" over at the KHR Fic Meme, and spoilerific for the TYL arc – the title is taken from the 31 Days theme for April 5, 2008. Special thanks to Nikki for doing the REAL archiving for all of us~

It has been a long time since she had gone out to that place – she figured she would've looked funny to anyone who might have been watching him. See a woman drive all the way down a road that ends unceremoniously in a field bleeding green out towards the sea. See her get out of her car, walk somewhere near the middle of the field right between the road and the shoreline. See her fall, just fall, flat on her back, with the trench coat and the car keys and everything else.

Lal Mirch stretched her arms out to her sides, running her palms over the blades of grass as the wish seeds, displaced by her landing, floating up among the clouds and pockets of sky. Daisies tickled her face with their petals whenever the wind swept in from the ocean; salt and earth were the only things she could smell. Sometime later, there were footsteps, the scent of crushed green, and then a Colonello-shaped hole cut the sun and some of the clouds out of the sky above her.

"You sure picked a weird place to take a nap, kora."

"Show some respect, soldier, and stop blocking my light."

Colonello laughed. The man plopped down beside her a moment afterward, drawing one knee up into his arms and stretching the other out towards the distant echo of waves and the cries of seagulls. Above them, the clouds continued spinning themselves into airborne picture books.

"Some bad news came in earlier, kora. Skull's passed on."

"I know."

The wind picked up, sending wish seeds everywhere. The sea was reflected in Colonello's eyes.

"I'm going to protect you, kora. We'll pull through this together."

He was radiant in the sunlight, so bright it made Lal Mirch want to turn away. She did not, however, and her hand snaked out, slipping into his.

"Don't make promises that you might not be able to keep."

They did not leave the field until sunset, and when they moved, they moved together. Close to two weeks later, on the morning of his funeral, Lal Mirch returned to the field and its wish seeds, to consign her tears to the daisies and the sea.