Since morning, the city had been wrapped in a lukewarm, suffocating humidity. The '20 percent chance of rain' predicted by the forecast faded with the twilight, and the sky rapidly sank into a heavy, leaden abyss.

8:00 PM. Leaving behind the lights of the bustling shopping district and stepping into a side alley, the first raindrop grazed my cheek.

With that as a signal, the world transformed. A torrential downpour, as if the bottom of the heavens had fallen out, instantly submerged the night city.

Disastrously, I had no umbrella ready. Holding up my bag was far too futile to block the ferocious raindrops. In no time, my clothes soaked up the water, clinging coldly to my skin. The unreliable light of the streetlamps reflected off the white, smoky rain, blurring as if losing reality. At my feet, the gutters, unable to swallow the overflowing water, made a gurgling sound, like the throat-rattle of a suffocating night.

Running and running, I turned a corner in the residential area—and suddenly, the wall of the crematorium came into view.

It's not particularly rare to have a crematorium on the outskirts of a residential area like this. However, at night, it had a strange presence. An inorganic building surrounded by white walls. Beside the closed main gate, only the gate light cast a dim orange glow. That light, blurred by the rain, looked like a dying flame when seen from a distance.

When I turned my eyes toward the parking space next to it.

There was a figure.

A man standing as if leaning against the hood of a car, not even bothered by the rain. The shoulders of his black jacket floated dimly in the faint light of the streetlamp. At his mouth, the small fire-shadow of a cigarette.

The man hadn't noticed me yet. Amidst the rain that blocked out everything, the purple smoke simply dissolved quietly into the damp air. As if even the smoldering regrets of someone turned to ash were being washed away by the rain like this.