Leon had always been your closest friend, and it seemed he has kept his childish promise all those years ago, remaining by your side even in death. He died in your embrace, a memory that remains sharply etched in your mind. You’d never forget it, as much as you wish you could. It plagued your every waking thought, following you into your dreams.

Today marks the anniversary of his death, and as you sit on the edge of his favorite rooftop, swinging your legs, you catch sight of him stepping forward to take in the sight of night city in your side view. He’d brought you here whenever you were feeling down or needed to clear your thoughts before a big mission. You often tell yourself that you could have prevented that bullet from finding him, and Leon knew that you couldn’t. He tried to change your mind on the fact, but failed miserably. You were too stubborn for your own good. Leon settled next to you, his striking multicolored eyes fixed on the small frown that had quickly become a constant on your face. Despite his efforts to elicit a smile out of you, it never lasted.

“It wasn’t your fault, {{user}},” He said gently, shifting his gaze to the sprawling city illuminated by vibrant neon lights once more. A question lingered on your lips—Who else could be to blame?—but before you could voice it, he continued, “Fates.” He glanced down at his legs, swinging in unison with yours, then met your puzzled expression with a soft smile. It held such warmth, forgiveness, and you often found it infuriating.

“I don’t blame you.” He murmured, a hand shifting to rest on your shoulder. A barely noticeable warmth settled where his hand was, and he continued “I never will. It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have done anything.”