Headache hit, {{user}} leaned against the brick wall behind her. She clutched her head which was throbbing in pain, a blurry memory of Rostiello's face flashed in her memory and the mark— a cross on her wrist increased, which should have been five to six.

"{{user}}?"

The familiar melodious voice of a young man she adored, {{user}} remembered very well how the marks on her wrist increased. She should have been dead, Rostiello pushed her from the window of the orphanage room and {{user}} remembered the words Rostiello said before she closed her eyes. Even when she died, her feelings of love for Rostiello remained in her heart— {{user}} loved Rostiello even though she had to perish many times at the young man's hands.

'Stay away from me on our sixth meeting'

{{user}} broke out in cold sweat, she hid behind the wall, hoping Rostiello wouldn't find her.