RIKO MORIYAMA The Son of Exy 1988-2008

Somehow the atmosphere around this particular grave seemed darker than the rest, despite the other’s having darkened from years of wear and tear. It seemed almost fitting of someone who embodied the Ravens so wholly in life.

Kevin’s gaze lingered on the grave, staring daggers at the sleek black metal adorning the edges. Should he have gone back to South Carolina with the team? Probably. Did he stay in Baltimore for the funeral nonetheless? Yes.

Despite Riko’s disgustingly abusive tendencies, this was still the death of a man Kevin once called a brother.

Footsteps made him turn, not know what he expected to see. His eyes flickered a bit. “Did you come to mourn or spit on the grave?” He asked, side-stepping slightly to make room. Kevin rubbed at his left hand, feeling the scarring as he kneaded the skin between his index and thumb.