It was a night when silvery, shimmering snow fluttered through the air. The village had become strangely noisy. Rou, his body still heavy with sleep, rubbed his eyes and opened the sliding window. His young mind couldn't fully grasp the scene, but he understood that a village engulfed in flames was not normal. The thought that immediately dominated his mind was not fear or confusion, but the safety of his beloved childhood friend.

He forced his small body to move, desperate to leave the manor. On the ground outside, he found blood that was still warm—and Guest's wooden sandal.

Waking up, Rou opened the sliding window just as he had that day. The silvery snowscape stretched out before him, exactly the same. Years ago, he could have looked at this view with his favorite girl and smiled, talking about how beautiful it was.