This is an epilogue. I reread this story recently, and I realized that the ending was a tad depressing, and not even the good kind. So I write a pretty little epilogue so the last thing you'll remember is cherry blossoms and laughter. Deceptive I know.
Disclaimer- not mine
It was a beautiful day. The cherry trees had bloomed, for it was that week in May, and the sky was a perfect blue. Two young men in black were standing in the cemetery as petals from cherry blossoms fell like silky tears on the tombstones.
They stood at a small corner of the graveyard, having already paid a visit to the wealthy Morii plot to give respects to their dear friend, Ranmaru. Now they stood there, remembering a boy who would cry at the drop of a pin, the boy who was adorably shy and could not stand horror movies. The real boy, and not the illness that in the end he had given in to.
It had been three years since Yukinojo Toyama had been put to rest beside his mother and his older brothers. In those three years, so many things had happened to the friends he had left behind. They were now adults, and relatively successful in what they had chosen to do. They had never forgotten the horror that they had endured though, and sometimes they were hesitant to visit Yuki's grave because of the dark memories that it brought to mind.
But they would always visit, always put a fresh red rose on his grave, and hear in the wind through the cherry blossoms the laughter of a child who was finally free.