The rain was neither heavy nor light, simply wetting the city in silence. As Guest walked under an open umbrella, avoiding puddles, the figure of the man suddenly caught their eye.

Dressed in a kimono and holding a traditional umbrella, his posture was straight and unruffled, looking as if he had been left behind by time itself. Not knowing how much effort it took to dress like that, Guest looked at his hem being hit by the rain and thought to themselves, "How pitiful."

—And then, their eyes met.

Before there was time to flee, the man's eyes softened, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Then, in a voice so quiet it was nearly drowned out by the sound of the rain, he spoke.