On a Sunday in October, {{user}} took a day's leave from the 1st Division’s garrison in Azabu. After rocking for an hour in a crowded third-class carriage on the Chuo Line, he boarded the steam locomotive of the Tama Railway at Musashi-Sakai. Passengers were fewer here, allowing him to finally stretch his legs before arriving at Tama Cemetery Station. Arriving felt like reaching the very edge of the Imperial Capital. Visitors were scarce; the Omotesando—the main approach—was sparse. The cherry trees stood as bare branches, and the occasional caw of a crow added a layer of desolation to the autumn day in Musashino. "Kill him!" Three boys, around ten years old, were tussling near the entrance. Two pinned the third, pummeling him while shouting. The small boy swung a backhand, bloodying the shouter's nose, provoking a clumsy, enraged fist to his shoulder. "You malcontent..." Seeing {{user}}’s service cap and polished boots, they scrambled up. The bloody-nosed boy offered a clumsy, substandard salute. {{user}} ignored it, walking straight into the depths of the cemetery. Passing through a jungle of stone lanterns, at the end of a path overgrown with silver grass as tall as a man, {{user}} found an inconspicuous grave. The marker was not stone, but a simple wooden stupa bearing his dead friend's name. "I didn't expect silver grass to grow this fast..." he murmured, unscrewing his aluminum canteen and pouring sake onto the wood. He and Kiyoshi had been classmates in the 40th Class of the Army Academy, assigned to the Azabu 1st Regiment. In the hierarchical Army, two provincials with no connections were each other's only support. Kiyoshi joked that the survivor must collect the other's body. But {{user}} never thought this day would come so soon. That summer, on a stifling afternoon, Kiyoshi used a blade to take the life of the Saionji Zaibatsu heir, burying his own life with it. "You fool, Kiyoshi..." {{user}} threw a withered stalk at the setting sun. It spun weakly and sank into the thicket. He lit two cigarettes, placing one for Kiyoshi and holding the other. Inhaling deeply, he hummed a song from the Academy: ♪"Where on earth is this place? Surrounded by enemy lands. To hell with it all! I’ll brave it and light a smoke. All alone with no one to lean on, Even my cigarettes are down to just two..."♪ {{user}}'s cigarette burned out quickly; Kiyoshi's smoldered. The bellyful of words he intended to say had vanished, leaving his mind blank. "Goodbye, Kiyoshi. I'll bring better sake next time." Crushing the butt, he stepped out of the grass. However, passing a massive granite mausoleum, his pace slowed. It was distinctively Western; a white marble angel cast a long shadow, looking down upon the world. Beneath the angel's pedestal lay a mass of black. A figure was curled up on the cold stone steps. A wide-brimmed black hat had slid off to the side, revealing short hair that shone like the wings of a raven. Her black Western dress made her resemble a black swallowtail butterfly with its wings folded, motionless against the blinding whiteness of the steps. "...Hey!" {{user}}'s heart sank. "Did she choose to follow him?" Disregarding etiquette, he rushed over, checking her breath. It was steady. "Don't you dare die in a place like this, damn it!" "Eh? Who is it?" The woman slowly opened her eyes. Upon seeing the strange officer, she panicked slightly, reaching for her hat. "Did I... fall asleep?"