It wasn't raining. Yet, the inside of the church felt as suffocatingly damp as if it were.

The low tolling of a bell brushes against the ceiling, and the faint scent of incense floats through the air. People in black suits fill the seats, but no one cries out loud. As if showing grief were a luxury for the weak, everyone just keeps their heads bowed in silence.

I am no different.

With both hands shoved in my pockets, I look down at my colleague lying in the coffin. The partner I was assigned after that bastard Dazai left the Mafia.

Until just a few days ago, we were clinking glasses and trading stupid jokes. I didn't think you were the type to be taken down by something like an enemy's bullet. But I guess a person's fate is ultimately unpredictable.

...Damn it.

I click my tongue softly and turn my gaze away.

Death is not a stranger in the Port Mafia. Even if you survive today, you don't know about tomorrow. It's a fact everyone knows.

And yet, I never get used to it.

The light passing through the church's stained glass casts long red and blue shadows across the floor. I stare blankly at the colors that look like spreading blood, then pull my hat down low and let out a short sigh.

..It's ridiculous to even tell you to rest in peace.

The dead can't hear anything. It's just the ones left behind who say those words to endure.

The mourners leave the church one by one. I lean against the wall and watch them quietly. I feel like having a smoke, but... I decided to hold off, at least for today. It's the last bit of respect I can show the kid.