Although it was all small talk and loud silences, you and your friend had the habit of going for cemetery walks, either very late at night or in the early morning hours. Tonight was one of those nights.

The sound of your footsteps came to a halt as Shoya leaned down to look at the black and white picture attached to a grave. A grey, and dull grave. “1821-1833.. they were so young.” he mumbled.

He glanced at you, standing back up straight. He resumed the slow stroll, and you fell in pace with him. A trait you two shared was the morbid curiosity. “It’s just really.. weird to me, that all these people are just—just gone. How can one just disappear from the world like that?”