Niconora PoV
I stared at the stone slab with Papa's casket that Uncle Gregory and the others had just sealed into the crypt wall. It has a little cat face on it. Tsuna had asked to carve, saying Papa always stopped to pet the stray mousers near the village mill, and that he shouldn't be lonely in the dark.
Uncle Gregory hadn't scolded him or smoothed the scratches away with earth mana. He had simply knelt, wiped the dust from Tsuna's tear-stained cheeks with a rough, callused thumb, and let the crude little carving stay.
Beside it, Mama's slab had a weird bird. He had never seen one, but Mama told him about her dream of a cute penguin chick plushie. It was a plump, round creature with tiny flipper wings and stubby feet. Tsuna had tried his best to scrape out the chubby outline into the stone with his flint, sobbing as he drew, whispering that Mama needed something soft to hold while she slept.
