Koumyou does him the courtesy of holding his cigarette off to one side, at least, so the smoke doesn't drift straight up into Devero's face.

"Yeah."

His other hand comes up to settle on one of the bigger man's shoulders, in turn.

"Sometimes," Koumyou says slowly, and evenly, "all you can do for a person is to not look away, not even for a moment. So they know they're not alone, as they go.

"So that their death matters, even just a little bit, even to a total stranger. So it didn't just happen in a vacuum somewhere, unnoticed or recorded. So that they know someone can accept the karma of their death, and shoulder the load."

Even someone who's seen too many last moments just like it.

That was what he'd done for Halo. No tears, no emotional oaths, no platitudes. He'd simply not looked away.