It was a cold day.

Then again, it seemed that most days were cold in this city.

Hanna definitely didn't mind though. He walked down the street wrapped up in his friend's scarf that he gave him all that long time ago, the same big grin as always plastered on his lips, even as he turned into the cemetery, his zombie friend coming into his view far off in the distant. He walked on, that kind of giddy, wobbly walk that he did, trying to keep his eyes on his friend instead of on the colorful bouquets of flowers that he passed sometimes.

"Hey, Gallahad," he breathed out as he approached, his words white against the cold winter air, the snow on the ground practically accenting his words. "Whatcha doing?" The zombie looked up at him slowly with that nearly same, stoic expression that he always had, standing in front of a grave, turning to meet him. "Ya remember something?" Hanna asked with a hopeful tone, to which the zombie merely stared at him, half turned to him.

"No," he responded, nearly with an apologetic tone.

"Oh, damn, sorry," Hanna said, the grin still on his lips though, his nose scrunching up quickly in an odd way of saying sorry again that was just so Hanna. He turned, mimicking the zombie's stance, looking at the grave and rocking back on his heels, licking his teeth as he looked back at Zombie. "What're ya doing?"

"Thinking," he responded, golden-brown eyes half-closed as he looked down at the grave.

"Yeah?" Hanna's eyes flittered to the grave marker a moment, then back to Zombie, grinning while licking his back moral out of habit.

"Yeah."

Hanna rocked back on his heels again, hands fluttering awkwardly in his pockets as he finally looked back to the grave, then he paused. "Oh." Hanna said, reading the grave marker quickly. "Is… it yours?"

"Mmn." Zombie gave a nod and Hanna pursed his lips in a faint smile, nodding a few times.

"So," he cooed, looking back up at the zombie. "Uh…"

"It's alright, Hanna," the taller man said, shaking his head and Hanna nearly pouted at him. "I just… gotta wonder, though. What kind of bastard must I have been, that nobody was here to claim me? I mean, no body?" Hanna frowned at him, lifting a hand from his pocket to place it gently on Zombie's shoulder, shaking him gently with a smile until the other looked down at him.

"Just because your grave doesn't have your name on it doesn't mean no body cared, Ulysses." Hanna explained, patting his shoulder, then letting his hand drop, looking back to the grave with a small smile, the grave that only read off with, 'Rest in Peace.' "It's just circumstance," he added, looking back up to his friend, smiling wider, his eyes suddenly brighter as the zombie's met his. "Like, what if you were an super cool alien from outer space, but you crashed here and that's what happened, ya know? And your name was so awesome in your alien language that they didn't know how to write it! Or if you were a police officer and were out of your district and they didn't know where you were from, or even, if you were like-"

"Hanna," his zombie friend said, thoroughly cutting him off. "It's alright. It was just a thought." he said.

Ping!

"Hey, you smiled!"