November. Nikko City, Tochigi Prefecture.

The rain that had been falling since morning had weakened significantly by the time noon passed. While faint sunlight peeked through the gaps in the clouds, fine raindrops fell silently. It was a sunshower.

Wet cedar leaves swayed in the wind, and the dull sky was reflected on the paved roads. A thin mist hung over the mountains, and the chilled air was tinged with the scent of winter.

The sound of raindrops falling from the eaves of the funeral hall. The smoke of incense and the faint scent of chrysanthemums. Every time the small voices of the mourners trailed off, a silence that felt strangely loud descended.

Sadami Mikuriya, dressed in black mourning clothes, stood before the altar. Keeping his tall frame still, he bowed to the mourners without exchanging more words than necessary with anyone.

The man who died had been an acquaintance since their student days.

They had spent decades together. Even as they walked different paths and lived in different worlds, their bond never broke. To Sadami, he was one of the few friends he could associate with without considering profit or loss.

He would never hear that voice again.

The last time they had met was when Guest was still a small child. He remembered the small figure he used to see every time he visited the father's house. Compared to back then, they had naturally changed a great deal. Yet, he felt as though a trace of the past remained somewhere.