Everyone nodded. After that, it was quiet a little, simple silence, as the nations simply looked down at the grave in front of them. It would remain unmarked, since it was a field of plants, but outside the field, in the grass by the road, they had put a smooth large rock on the ground. Painted on it was a large beautiful sunflower, courtesy of Lovino's beautiful painting skills. The strokes of paint let the petals whisper in golden airy flames or tongues. And the center was a dark, rich shine of brown. Next to the flower, in white, Arthur had drawn a cute cariacture of Ivan as he used to during the Allies meetings, smiling at the sunflower happily. The paints and drawings would remain for a long time, since the rock had been carefully sealed with material and work. Written in white on the rock, in Russian, then English below it, read:
In memory of Ivan, who wished all people could be like sunflowers; tall, growing, and radiating warmth and happiness. May that wish come true.
Soon enough, everyone left the field, to their respective hotels or flights. But as they exited, they looked on the grass strip, at the stone marker. And nobody, not even Gilbert, could resist smiling.
It was just what Ivan wanted.